


Sakashovau

by scifishipper



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, New Vulcan, References to The Search for Spock, Romance, T'hy'la, post-STID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-26 02:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2635196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jim dies to save the Enterprise, Spock's tenuous controls around the loss of his mother and his planet finally shatter. Despite his captain's life being restored, Spock cannot tolerate who he has become, and seeks solace on New Vulcan. </p><p>Jim, of course, follows him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Is Not A Beginning

In the days and weeks after Nero’s destruction, Spock felt that time had little meaning relative to the grief he experienced at Vulcan’s destruction. He could not reconcile why his focus returned time and time again to his mother when so many others had been lost. And yet it did, replaying for him in his perfect memory, the many moments they’d shared together when he was a child. Over time, he began to think of his memories as a part of his flawed human nature, the errant and chaotic parts of his brain that resisted Vulcan order. Thusly, he constructed walls around them where they could remain in tact, but would not spill into his work or cloud his reason when he least expected it. In this task, he felt he had chosen wisely, satisfied that his grief was appropriately managed, his mind clear of all reminders and cues, all pathways masked, hiding the pain that sucked in his chest walls and brought bitterness to his throat. He did not expect that the barriers, so carefully built, would be shattered when Jim died. 

When Jim had taken his last wheezing breath on the other side of the glass, Spock had been powerless to prevent it. He would have gladly suffered the same fate, thought of flooding the compartment and consequences be damned. He’d envisioned striking Mr. Scott down and ripping at the controls, overriding logic and sense; he would have gladly sent them all to their deaths just to save Jim. 

Instead, he narrowed his rage, a bile-filled, nauseating, brutal rage on the _thing_ that had taken his captain. _Khan_.

He had never felt the pleasure of brutality before, the sudden bone-crushing pain of being struck over and over again by a more powerful force. It gratified him, focusing his chaotic hatred into physical sensation. It fueled him where it might have halted others. It set him ablaze with a fury that his ancestors had warned against. A blinding, consuming need to end the life of another. He could not have stopped himself were it not for the bright spark of hope of Nyota’s words, “It’s our only chance to save Kirk.” They burrowed through the rage like Nero’s drill to the core of Vulcan, finding the one shred of control he still retained. _Save Jim._

~*~

Only hours after Khan’s arrest, raw joy burst into Spock’s soul when Dr. McCoy announced that Jim had survived. More than survived, he had returned from the dead. His t’hy’la, his universe, the bright golden star that would consume him if he allowed it.

Frozen in this place between Jim's death and his impending life, Spock had meditated in the small temporary quarters, waiting for Jim to wake. Incense had burned in his lungs and still he could not quiet his turmoil. He was trapped in the memory of his rage, feeling the pain of broken hands and ribs that physical healing could not erase. The burn of his desire to kill and maim, the deep desire to die along with Jim. He could not comprehend it. He could not abide its implications. He did not feel whole, just the sum of fragmented thoughts and experiences that could not be ordered. 

Was this what it meant to be t’hy’la, he asked over and over again. Twisting the question until it no longer made sense. Even without the formal bond, his grief had been unparalleled, beyond what he had ever experienced, even at the loss of his planet. It had crawled inside him, twisting tendrils of pain around his very soul. His mind had betrayed him, allowing emotion to rule, bottomless, feral, unchecked, until he was a being of unrecognizable form: dangerous and uncontrollable. 

It wrecked him.

~*~

After long hours of meditation and little sleep, Spock sought Jim out once more. The monitors in his hospital room continued to beep quietly, lights flashing in tandem with the indicators of his bodily functions. The figure on the bed was unmoving, so uncharacteristic of his captain, a reminder of the complete stillness of his death. 

He had been revived only two days before and was breathing on his own yet unable to wake. A golden shadow of beard curved around his jaw, rough to the touch if Spock would allow himself to brush a finger against it. Instead he clasped his hands tightly behind his back, aware of the weakness of his shields. He could not allow Jim to wake, to seek out their bond has he had promised to do before he died. Spock had to stop it before it could draw them both down, impairing their judgment, controlling their actions until it led to his beloved’s death. Surak had been wise in his teachings, imploring peace and reason over passion, lust, and rage. Even pon farr, brutal as it could be, was housed in a web of reason, sheltered as a deep, troubling remnant of Vulcan’s dark age. Kolinahr would purge his desire to mate, the will to harm and lust. He would feel nothing but the cool pureness of logic. He would, _they would_ , be free of the danger.

Spock allowed himself to touch the pillow near Jim’s head, to graze his fingers over the rough tips of Jim’s spiky hair. They had never consummated their relationship, only discovering it in the dark hours before Khan had struck Jim down. But Spock remembered the surging passion of their kiss, the way Jim fisted the fabric of his uniform, pressing his firm body against Spock’s. Their bond has sparked into existence, bright strands of gold and red intertwining before Jim pulled away, giving Spock a heady smile. “I’ll see you after,” he’d said, blue eyes glittering with promise. “And then we’ll do this for real.” 

Spock’s passion had been overwhelming, like nothing he had experienced in his life, and he watched, dumbstruck as Jim strode away from him to join Khan. He should have seen it as the first warning, but he had not. He had felt joy and need and want. The immediate recognition of their undeniable bond, before it had been ripped away.

Blinking to escape the memory, Spock withdrew his hand and curled it into a tight fist. Even close to an unconscious Jim, his control wavered and he longed for Jim to wake. The need was so great that he stepped back in surprise, knocking into the chair clumsily. He knew he could no longer stay.

While it had not been the intended purpose, seeing Jim again had confirmed a simple truth. This chaotic surging of emotion was too uncontrolled, to unstable to function. He could not exist as a being in turmoil, could not live with what it meant to be with Jim. He could not...lose him again.

And for the first time since Khan had murdered Captain Pike, he felt a sense of peace fit gently around his heart and a decision fell into place.

Trembling, he raised his hand in the ta’al.

“Peace and long life, _Ashal-veh_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sakashovau_ , desensitize; cause not to be sensitive; make insensitive  
>  _Ashal-veh_ , darling


	2. Questions without Answers

For a long time before he woke, Jim dreamed. He dreamed of Iowa and Frank and Khan until their faces merged and he tumbled back towards a silent blackness he didn’t understand. He couldn’t feel his body, wondered if he was alive or dead, or in some kind of alien purgatory on the away mission from Hell. It was a blur of pain and burning, deep inside his body, the palms of his hands, the soft tissue inside his mouth and rectum, his eyes and the inside of his nose. The burning sent him to the black again, disconnecting, barely aware. He felt like spinning, then falling, then still, each state confusing and unfamiliar until the sounds of the world started to make sense. The beeping of a machine, footsteps, voices he couldn’t quite hear. 

The flatness of the black gave way to bits of light, seeping into the edges of his awareness, then the memories started to flicker in, stuttering to life like an old time projector with dust and scratches and misaligned film. They’d saved the ship, the crew, Spock. Spock, crying. Why was he crying? Vulcans don’t cry. Jim felt the pain inside his body again and the vibration of a sound in his throat. A voice. So familiar then gone. A cool hand, then a hiss. 

Jim’s eyelids seem thin and he blinked rapidly against too bright light. 

“He’s waking up!” 

_Bones. God, Bones!_

Another rumble inside his throat, a breath, deeper than the rest, and his eyes slammed open.

“Good god, Jim. It’s about time.” 

“Bones,” Jim squawked.

“Take it easy. Don’t try to talk or move. You’ve been mostly dead for a couple of weeks.”

Jim blinked and stared hard at McCoy’s face which went in and out of focus.

“All right, don’t get yourself all worked up. But do tell me if you feel any homicidal urges or super strength.”

“Khan…” Jim said in a harsh whisper as the fuzzy pieces began to make sense.

“Yeah. We’ve been keeping an eye on your vitals. Weren’t sure how your body would react. It was touch and go for a while, but, well, you’re damn stubborn, kid.” Bones shook his head with that smile Jim knew so well. 

Jim made a weak bark of a laugh and coughed. His chest felt tight and limbs still heavy.

“Take it easy, okay. You’re gonna need more time.” 

“When?” Jim managed a little louder, clearing his throat and coughing.

“Hell if I know, Jim. Never transfused superblood. For all I know, you might walk on water. Just…well, just rest and don’t argue.” Bones pressed a hand to Jim’s arm. Jim could make out the concern and relief behind his gruff tone.

Jim glanced around the room. “Spock?”

“He’s not here, Jim. But he did save your life, along with a little help from me and Uhura.”

“I wanna see him,” Jim said, voice rasping and he coughed again. Fuck.

Bones frowned and pulled out a hypo. “What did I say? Take it easy.” 

“Okay, okay. Don’t knock me out. I’ll be good.” Jim did feel genuinely tired, weary in a way he hadn’t known possible.

“But get him, okay?” Jim whispered. 

“Just take it easy and don’t worry about Spock.” Bones had an odd expression on his face but Jim couldn’t think what it meant.

“I wanna see him," he tried to say, but pain skittered along his skin. His whole body began to throb and he groaned. 

“Shit. What’s your pain number?” McCoy asked. They’d done this drill a hundred times before on too many gone-wrong missions.

“Bad,” he answered, brain too fuzzy to count.

“All right. Look, I’m going to give you something for the pain and no arguments.” 

Jim weakly shook his head. For once, he agreed and sighed when he felt the hypo against his neck. The Bone’s face slid into a blur and his vision went out again.

~*~

Jim got better faster than Bones wanted to admit and forced him into two weeks of physical therapy before he cleared Jim to leave the hospital and go to his newly assigned quarters. He didn’t have anything with him, but someone had delivered his personal items from the Enterprise. Just thinking about it made him wince. He hadn’t seen his beautiful ship yet, and wasn’t sure how he’d manage it when he did. Rumors said she’d taken a beating and he just wasn’t sure he was ready to see it. 

Physically, he felt good, like he had before the radiation, but he was eager for something productive to do. Lying in a hospital bed had addled his brain and while he was still on light duty, his mind was ready to get back to work.

His quarters, when he stepped into them, were plain, the dull gray and red he had come to associate with Starfleet’s decorating sense. He dropped his jacket over a chair and opened the blinds, thinking he was prepared to see the wide swath of city damage Khan had caused. What he saw sickened him. So many lives. _Almost his._ He stood for a long moment at the window, forcing himself to take it in. Khan had meant to rip out Starfleet’s guts and he’d nearly succeeded. Now, Jim knew, as did all of Starfleet, it was time to repair the public’s trust and to rebuild the city. Marcus had done more damage to Starfleet in a few days than the Romulans or Klingons had in so many years. And Jim wanted to do his part, although he was not certain what that was.

His crew, he’d learned from Bones, was scattered around the galaxy, pursuing assignments while the Enterprise was being made whole again. He’d heard from them all via holovid, wishing him well and expressing delight at his recovery. Truth be told, it felt a little lonely to be without them. Bones, who’d been at his side through his recovery, had been his sole confident. And Spock… Jim heaved a breath. The one terse message he received had seemed…off. 

_I am gratified that you are recovering. Peace and long life, Captain._

After what they had shared in the corridor, Spock pressed against him in a fervent kiss—it didn’t make sense. Did he regret it? Did he relish the separation? No, Jim thought, remembering the message he’d read a dozen times. In his mind, he pictured Spock’s response to his questions, knowing he would say he was using the time logically. New Vulcan was rebuilding and Spock had often felt torn in his decision to remain on the Enterprise. He would return when it was completed…right? Jim shivered, feeling oddly hurt that he hadn’t waited to see him wake up. But Spock wasn’t fully human, didn’t get it sometimes the way Jim expected. But Spock’s face when he died—the emotion he’d seen there—that had been real. The kiss, the electric current between them, a shocking feeling of rightness, something long awaited yet unknown. Jim knew then that everything would be all right. 

Jim felt a knot in his throat and squeezed his fingers into fists, tamping down a surprisingly deep need to see him. Make sure they were okay. 

Fuck.

With a huff of breath, Jim shook himself. Being dead hadn’t done him any favors in the self-pity department. He’d be fine. They’d be fine.

Determined, Jim sat down at the desk and scanned his PADD, focusing instead on preparing for his afternoon meeting with the Admiralty to discuss Section 31. Tomorrow would be the press conference that marked his official return to active duty and he needed to get his head back in the game.

~*~

The people of the Press Corps watched intently as Jim walked up to the podium. Admiral Komack had introduced him, praising him in a way that could only happen at a press conference; Jim knew the guy couldn't stand him.

Jim stepped forward and gripped the sides of the podium, licking his lips before he spoke. He glanced at the throng of men and women seating in front of a row of cameras, their eager eyes waiting for him to speak.

“Thank you, Admiral, for your kind words...” Jim kept the speech brief, thanking the people of San Francisco who had sent him well-wishes. It was his second time in the spotlight and both in the wake of destruction on an enormous scale. 

Jim finished his remarks and agreed to take a few questions. Inevitably, after the first few about Starfleet, they strayed to his crew and his injuries. Jim kept his answers brief and as charming as he could muster. One question, however, shook him.

“Captain, you have spoken of your desire to explore deep space. You have also praised your Vulcan commander Spock and his role in saving the Enterprise. How do you plan to replace him now that he has resigned his commission?” 

Jim froze and blinked at the white haired woman. _Resigned?_

“Um, well, Starfleet has many qualified candidates and the proper decision will be made. The commander’s contributions have been immeasurable and I support whatever decision he feels is best.” Jim recited words he didn’t mean, covering his shock with common sense and a well-trained diplomatic response that would have made Uhura proud. “Thank you all for your time.”

Jim stepped away from the mic and looked at Admiral Komack, who remained seated, vaguely smirking and keeping his eyes away from Jim’s penetrating stare. _Fucker_.

Taking the steps two at a time, Jim retreated into headquarters and took the basement corridor back towards his quarters. His body shook as he rounded the corners, breath coming in short pants. His heart pounded in his chest as he nodded to the one maintenance woman he passed. What the fuck was going on? 

Jim shoved his door open and hit the comm. “Bones?”

“McCoy here.” 

“What the fuck is up with Spock?”

“Uh, Jim, I’m with a patient. Gimme a sec.” The man cut the communication and Jim paced.

“McCoy to Kirk,” his voice finally sounded two minutes later. 

“Bones, what happened? Did you know that Spock resigned? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Jim’s voice rose into a sharp whine.

“What do you mean, ‘resigned’? When?” McCoy sounded surprised.

“I don’t know but I am sure as hell going to find out.” Jim stabbed the comm button and took a couple of deep breaths. If Pike were around, he’d know. How could Spock do this without telling him?

With his mind racing, he connected to the Admiralty assistant pool. “Lou, this is Jim Kirk. How are you?” 

“Hello, Captain. I am well. How are you feeling?” The young man chirped back pleasantly at Jim. 

“Good, good. Listen, can you patch me through to New Vulcan? I need to talk to Comm— I mean, former Commander Spock.” Jim stared at the rain spitting against his fifteenth story window.

“Connecting to New Vulcan, sir. One moment.”

“Thanks,” Jim responded, pulling at his uniform collar, loosening it and yanking the buttons open to reveal his black uniform undershirt. 

“Ta'Vaish Station, Lieutenant T’Hil-Noor,” a female voice spoke across subspace.

“Lieutenant, Captain James T. Kirk. Can you verify that Spock, Son of Sarek has arrived on New Vulcan? I need to speak to him. Does he have local communication?”

“One moment, sir.” Jim heard the line go momentary silent and he stepped into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“He arrived sixteen Terran days ago, Captain. Communications with Spock, Son of Sarek, have been disabled, sir.”

“What do you mean, ‘disabled’?” He asked, putting a hand against the kitchen counter. Water sloshed down the side of the glass and over his fingers.

“Disabled by request, Captain.”

“Exemptions? For Captain James T. Kirk?” Jim didn’t understand. What was going on?

“No exemptions, Captain.”

“Really?” Jim sat back down at his desk to stare at the comm device.

“Can I assist you further, Captain?” The lieutenant’s voice was clipped. Or Vulcan. Same thing.

“Um. Can I leave a message for Mister Spock?” Jim wiped his damp hand on his pants.

“Messages have been disabled, sir.”

“Yeah, no. Well, can you get a message to him?”

“Negative, sir.”

 _Fuck._ Jim mouthed to himself and paused. “Can you get a message to Ambassador Sarek?”

“Affirmative. Recording now.” A small chime indicated that Jim should speak.

“Hi, uh. This is Captain James Kirk. Ambassador, I am trying to reach Spock on New Vulcan and he has disabled communications. I need to reach him urgently. Can you please ask him to contact me at Starfleet headquarters? Uh, thanks. Kirk out.”

Jim cringed at the desperation in his message. “Will that be all, Captain?” The lieutenant’s voice came back on the line. It would be stupid to re-record it, so he let it stand.

“No, that’s it. Thanks.” Jim poked the communicator off and leaned back in his chair. None of this made sense. Why would Spock resign? Why would he block his communications? What had Jim done wrong? 

His mind raced, flipping through scene after scene of the rocky friendship, how he’d worked at it, had spent time with Spock until he thought he knew him. Their increasing closeness, until the Nibiru incident. But they’d gotten past that, right? Was that it? Had he thought it better to leave? Then why go with Jim to chase after Khan? Why kiss him in the corridor? What happened?

The information he learned only created more questions and a tight knot of pain in his chest. What Spock had done seemed so deliberate, but so bizarre that Jim couldn’t make it fit into what he thought he knew. Questions of how and why morphed into a hundred scenarios that didn’t make sense. Without even thinking, Jim began to throw clothes into a bag and soon enough had completed the necessary paperwork. He couldn't wait for the Ambassador to get back to him. 

He needed answers now and there was only one place to get them.


	3. Bound for Uzh T’Khasi

With twenty minutes to spare, Jim arrived at Hangar Three. His request for leave had been approved and he had booked himself onto the next transport to New Vulcan.

As he stood against a bank of windows awaiting his transport to board, his comm chimed. 

“Kirk, here,” he answered, flipping the device open.

“Captain, it’s Uhura,” her voice came across the line and he glanced around at the cluster of humans and Vulcans waiting with him.

“Hold on a sec, Lieutenant. What can you tell me?” Kirk switched the comm to privacy mode and moved to a quiet corner.

“Nothing, sir. There’s nothing official that I can see. It’s a standard resignation according to Starfleet records. He received a commendation, but never accepted it. No one else spoke to him, Captain. Seems like the last person to see him was Doctor McCoy, at the hospital. He visited you seventeen days ago, while you were unconscious.”

“Shit. Okay.” So he had been concerned. “When did he leave San Francisco?”

“Same day, sir.”

“All right. Keep me posted. Let me know if you find out anything else.” 

“Captain…” Uhura said, letting her voice drift meaningfully.

“What is it? Something else?” Jim watched a shuttle lift off and depart.

“I - uh. When you died, sir. Spock was…emotional. Grieving and angrier than I have ever seen him. He was going to kill Khan, there was no doubt in my mind.” Jim shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. “He would have, if I hadn’t stopped him. I told him he could save your life and he stopped, just like that.” 

“Man, I had no idea.” Jim had read the reports but this version was new to him. He glanced at the other Vulcans around him, two in particular, with their placidly stern expressions and careful physical movements. Such a contrast to how Spock must have been to survive a fight with a superhuman like Khan. Jim could barely imagine it. 

“So, you think that’s why he resigned? Because he wanted to kill a guy? He _was_ a mass murderer…”

“But it’s Spock. He’s a pacifist. I think he was pretty shaken up, Captain. He just shut down after that.” She sighed. “But I never expected him to resign. I’m as surprised as you are.” If Uhura had no idea, he was damn certain he’d never figure it out. He wasn’t exactly an A-student when it came to understanding Spock.

“Okay. Thanks, lieutenant. Kirk out.” He snapped the comm closed and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. So, Spock was freaked out. That makes sense, right? That was okay. He could work with that. But why not tell him? Why not leave word? And why the fuck resign his commission? 

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Jim glanced at the small cluster of Vulcans again, more curious than ever to understand this enigmatic race. There was so much he didn’t know.

Well, he thought, straightening his shoulders and glancing towards the group. He’d just have to find out.

~*~

The transport was nearly full and Jim seated himself just behind the contingent of Vulcans, staring pretty openly at them as the pilot and cabin attendant prepared to depart. It was a long trip and Jim had brought his PADD, stocked full of reports and paperwork that had been piling up since his…injuries. 

Lifting off smoothly, the transport broke Earth’s atmosphere and sped out of orbit. Moments later, Jim felt the sensation of warp and eased deeper into his seat. When he turned on his PADD, the first thing he did was to read the files that Uhura had sent him about Spock. 

The paperwork was order, just as he expected from Spock. The forms were familiar to him from the dozen or so resignations he’d received over the past two years from various members of his crew. When he scrolled to the bottom, he frowned, noticing that Spock had declined to explain why he wanted to resign, simply leaving it blank. But he must have talked to someone, Jim thought, then scanned to the signature line. _Admiral Komack_. Fucker. No wonder he’d been a dick at the press conference. He must love this. 

Jim scanned through a couple of other documents and ran a search for Spock’s name in the local media, looking for something that might give him a clue. But none of it made it any clearer. Once again, the Vulcan had him at a loss.

Hours later, Jim shifted in his seat, tapping his PADD against his leg, mind spinning round and round about Spock. A part of him felt really hurt that Spock wasn’t there when he woke up. He’d been upset when he’d died, right? Yes, and he’d visited him in the hospital. But then, why? And why not tell Uhura or Bones or leave a message? Jim frowned, rubbing between his eyes, trying to erase the vague sensation that Spock was running away. 

“Captain James Kirk?” a voice sounded from next to him and he looked up to see one of the tall Vulcans towering over him. His black hair was cropped shorter than most which made his ears stick out even more.

“Uh, yeah,” Jim answered, straightening in his seat. “What can I do for you?”

The Vulcan motioned to the seat next to Jim. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Sure,” he answered, and moved his knees to allow the Vulcan to pass by.

“I am Stosh. It is an honor to meet you, Captain.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jim asked, never quite used to the accolades he received.

“Your efforts saved many members of the Vulcan High Council and their survival has facilitated the revitalization of our race on _Uzh T’Khasi_.”

“Uzh T’Khasi?”

“New Vulcan, in Standard. The population slowly grows and we have recorded an eighty-four-point-one percent fertility rate among the females residing on New Vulcan. In addition, we still experience the arrival of Vulcans who are returning from the farthest reaches of our known universe. Even there, they could feel the destruction of T’Khasi.”

“I grieve with thee,” Jim said and watched the slightest of a reaction flicker in the eyes of the Vulcan.

A moment passed and then Jim spoke again, an idea lighting in his mind. “So, now that you’re here, maybe you could answer a few questions for me. About Vulcans, you know, the people.”

“I would be happy to answer your questions, Captain.” Stosh folded his hands on his lap and gave Jim an expectant stare.

“This might not make a lot of sense, but let’s say that a Vulcan had trouble managing his feelings, what could he do? I mean, didn’t that happen maybe when your planet…” Jim trailed off and glanced away from the dark eyes of his new companion.

“When our planet experienced the _Va’Pak_. Yes, every Vulcan experienced a traumatic rupture inside their minds. Most Vulcans have been able to heal on their own, using their relationship bonds as a source of healing. For many who lost a bondmate, however, their journey has been more difficult. Vulcan healers, although now rare, have been working with the most severely affected to help them restore an adequate level of functioning. Those who have been unable to restore functioning, have instead chosen to undertake the Kolinahr.”

“Kolinahr. What’s that?” Jim asked, swiping a hand across his brow.

“It is the pursuit of total logic, a purging of all emotion.”

“Wow, really?” Jim couldn’t imagine it. “That’s intense.”

“For many, a necessity after Va’Pak. Prior to Nero’s actions, it had been the pursuit of scientists and scholars undertaking study at the Vulcan Science Academy, or for those who had been affected by a trauma beyond a healer’s skill.”

“So, that’s something good? I mean, it would make…Well, I was going to say, it would make a Vulcan feel better, but I guess there’d be no feelings at all.” Jim was working it out more for himself than Stosh. “It’s reversible. Like, if you change your mind later?” He couldn’t imagine living that way.

“Negative. It is a thorough purging of all emotion. The study of Kolinahr generally takes several years, but the urgency of Va’Pak has caused many Vulcans to take more drastic measures, however illogical. One with a broken bond and a fragile mind cannot make wise decisions, and some have sought…short-cuts, I believe is the Terran vernacular.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Jim said, adjusting himself in his seat, feeling squirmy next to the perfectly still Vulcan. The realization of it made him miss _his_ Vulcan.

“Indeed. The procedure of which I speak is dangerous and prohibits the formation of a mating bond. The study of Kolinahr, however, can allow a bond for form until the final level of study is achieved.”

“Yeah, I can see how that’d be a problem if you need to rebuild your race.” Jim couldn’t imagine Spock doing either of these things, no matter how upset he was. 

“If I may make an inquiry?” Stosh said, tilting his head in such a similar fashion to Spock’s that Jim's breath caught. 

Jim blinked. “Uh, yeah. Go ahead.” 

“Your hypothetical Vulcan…is it correct to assume that you are speaking of S’chn T’gai Spock, Son of Sarek?”

Jim pressed his lips together. Dumbass. Of course, it was only logical that he was associated with the most famous Vulcan in the Fleet. Jim traced a his thumb along the edge of his jeans and avoided Stosh’s gaze.

“Yes, of course,” Stosh answered for himself.

Jim gave an awkward smile and looked down the aisle towards the cockpit doors.

“Spock is one of our most honored _orishansu_. His return to Vulcan has been heralded as a sign of hope.”

Jim gave the Vulcan a sidelong glance. “Isn’t hope an emotion?”

“Hope is a wish and a desire. It is logical to foster hope in the aftermath of the Va’Pak. To see our rebuilding achieve success. Many Vulcans were unable to manage the pain of the broken bonds and required new bonds and the deep emotional connections they offer. After working side by side with Spock, surely you are aware that Vulcans feel very deeply, but choose to follow the teachings of Surak.”

“Yeah…I guess. I just thought maybe I could read Spock because we were friends. I don’t know.” Jim shrugged.

Stosh raised his brow at Jim. “Friends?” 

“Yeah. Is that weird?” Jim asked, remember how confused Spock had been about the notion of friendship and why he went back for him on Nibiru. Was it so strange?

“Vulcans establish bonds with family and bondmates, possibly similar to ‘friend’ in the human way, but the notion of a ‘casual friendship’ or ‘acquaintance’ does not exist for Vulcans.”

“Hmm. Good to know.” Jim sighed, not quite sure how to fit it all together with what he and Spock shared. Jim trusted him, felt close to him…spent more time with Spock than even Bones. _That_ was friendship to him. He had just assumed that Spock felt the same way.

And then there was the kiss and all those feelings he couldn’t explain. 

“It would be most unfortunate if Spock were to seek Kolinahr. His insights and proximity to humans makes him a valuable asset as we rebuild. Vulcans have begun to heal and while many desire isolation from the Federation, most understand that we must now share our civilization if we wish it to grow.”

“Yeah, the Federation, Starfleet for sure, has been pretty concerned about Vulcan. They’re a stabilizing force and with their smaller numbers, it changes the balance of powers with the Romulans and the Klingons. I thought Spock would stay in Starfleet and help out, but I guess he wanted to help out on New Vulcan.” Jim clamped his mouth closed as soon as he said the words. Why was he telling him this?

“There was much curiosity about Spock when he returned, but Vulcans accept the logic in his efforts to rebuild our society. I expect he will bond soon and begin procreating.”

Jim nearly choked and covered just barely, swallowing down a cough and keeping his body still. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he said lamely, thinking exactly the opposite. It didn’t make sense at all. Why would Spock leave now? Why not before? He could have left any time…

For months, he had worked side-by-side with Spock, yet the Vulcan had never mentioned it. Never said that he was even considering leaving. 

“Indeed,” Stosh said and flicked a spot of debris off his robe. 

Jim felt his curious gaze and ignored it, leaning his head back against the headrest. Some part of him felt a deep disappointment, that feeling of loss that he’d been nurturing since he awoke to find Spock gone. All along he’d been ignoring it, wanting to believe everything was fine. 

_I expect he will bond soon and begin procreating._ Stosh’s words rang in Jim’s ears. 

What if he was already too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Uzh T’Khasi:_ New Vulcan (adapted)  
>  _Va’Pak:_ the Immeasurable Loss -- destruction of the planet Vulcan by Nero  
>  _orishansu:_ a refugee in the aftermath of Vulcan's destruction caused by Nero  
> 


	4. Respite and Challenge

Spock withdrew from the hot afternoon sun and stepped into the cooler shade of his temporary quarters on the southern edge of Uzh T’Khasi. Inside, he took a drink of water and laid out his meditation mat and lit the _azenoi_. While he changed into cooler robes, the spice of incense filled the room and drew his mind into the preliminary stages of meditation. It was easier now, he thought, as he arranged his robes around himself and closed his eyes. The panic he’d felt in San Francisco had eased, leaving his mind fragile but more quiet than it had been in recent weeks. Jim still lingered around the edges, coming in flashes of vibrant gold and blue, colors uncommon on his new world. In the last two days, barely any reminder of his former life sprang to mind. For this, he was grateful.

With a long exhale, Spock slid into meditation, expanding his vision, allowing his mind to find the strong beat of his heart, the nearly silent rasp of his breath, until he was aware of nothing else.

When Spock emerged from his meditation, the sky was a soft violet with threads of red near the rocky horizon. It was not the same as Vulcan, but _kaiidth_ , he said to himself, what is, is. He extinguished the embers in the pot and rolled the mat, propping it in the corner. His stomach informed him of hunger and he took a small bowl of _balk’ra_ from the refrigeration unit and sat at the stout table to eat. He enjoyed the silence of his lodging space, away from the newer construction which spanned the northern and eastern areas of the city. His simple dwelling shared walls with two other units which were themselves attached to another to form a square made of four small rectangles. His neighbors were quiet, as well, and he heard little through the soft structured walls. This area was reserved for unbonded males or males who had lost their bondmates in Va’Pak. Two of his dwelling mates were considering Kolinahr due to the lack of available females on the planet. Neither had successfully healed from their severed familial bonds and would likely be enrolled in the next phase of training.

The third male, Rhi-kal, spoke of the _sakashovau_ , a rare and dangerous mind desensitization that rendered one incapable of feeling emotion. It differed from the Kolinahr and was not sanctioned by the High Council. That did not, however, make it undesirable to many who were unable to tolerate the pain of their broken bonds. It was a method that had garnered Spock’s attention when he’d first arrived on Uzh T’Khasi, although the necessity for it had faded. His own meditation had calmed him enough to allow him to begin the kohl exercises. He was gratified by his progress and would seek out formal training in the next phase, only five weeks hence.

Spock finished his small dinner and changed into sleeping clothes. It had been more than thirty-three hours since his last period of rest, and despite his earlier meditation, his body felt somewhat more fatigued than he preferred. Until it was time to retire, Spock sat on his low sleeping mat and reviewed his notes in preparation for a meeting the next day. When at last the appointed hour arrived, Spock laid his PADD back on the table, arranged himself comfortably, and slept.

~*~

The next morning, just before dawn, Spock arose from a mild dream. He had come to accept his dreams over the years, understanding that they were part of his human physiology, the one small concession he had been required to make, despite years of meditation to reduce their frequency. The Vulcan healers encouraged him to accept the dreams but to pay no mind to their content, and thus he did, dismissing the often frenetic images as he did with other useless information. It was quite effective. Today, Spock’s mind was pleasingly ordered, having benefited from an additional period of sleep. 

After a small breakfast, he washed and changed into his day robes, eager to begin his exploration of the flora that was to be installed around the recently erected memorial hall. Several notable musicians had survived Va’Pak and a concert had been scheduled for five days hence. Before he observed the installation, however, he was due to meet with the High Council to discuss Starfleet’s recent suggestion to enhance its presence on New Vulcan. 

Now that the work of Section 31 had been uncovered, Starfleet had revealed the development of a planetary monitoring system that might prove useful on both Earth and New Vulcan. Spock understood the logic of interweaving such a system into the fledgling infrastructure on their new planet, but it raised well-founded concerns about Vulcan’s stance as a peaceful race. Despite being founding members of the Federation, Vulcan had insisted on maintaining abstinence from all military-related research and maneuvering in Federation territories. Spock, as the only Vulcan who had ever achieved the rank of Commander in Starfleet, was uniquely qualified to provide insight. He realized, with some small surprise, that his voice, once silent due to his half-human heritage, was now desired above others. Spock nodded to himself, acknowledging that it was logical to cultivate multiple perspectives. He admitted to some mild anxiety, however, as he contemplated coming before the High Council once again. The last time he was in their presence, his refusal to enter the Vulcan Science Academy had caused quite a stir.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Spock neatened his sparse quarters and proceeded out the door into the brightened morning sky.

~*~

Spock arrived precisely two minutes prior to the meeting and sat on one of the stone benches at the end of a long hall. It lacked the ornate detail of the prior High Council’s chamber, but it was pleasing nonetheless. It retained the essence of Vulcan architecture and, to Spock’s advantage, did not evoke the strong memories of the last time he approached the Council.

At the appointed time, the Council doors opened and Spock glanced up. His father’s aide, T’Naya approached, robes swishing against the pale gray floors. 

“Spock. The Ministers will see you now.” He stood and approached, stilling an erratic pulse in his neck as he passed through the heavy doors.

“Ministers,” Spock said, nodding his head in deference. “It pleases me to see you well.”

“Welcome, Spock. Be seated.” The head of the Council, Minister Kanar, fixed Spock with an even stare. “I trust that you have reviewed Starfleet’s proposal?”

“Yes, Minister.”

“And what is your assessment?” Minister Kanar’s voice echoed flatly on the walls.

“The proposal is sound in its design and with adequate testing could prove useful. It would not, however, have stopped Nero’s destruction of T’Khasi had it been in place at the time.”

“We are aware of that, Spock. Nonetheless, we maintain great concern about the threat of our Romulan cousins and the Klingon Empire. Now that our numbers have diminished, we may appear an easy target for conquest. As you well know, the Federation’s balance of power has been shifted.”

“Yes, Minister. While I agree that those entities pose a threat, the protection of the planet would require far more than the installation of a sensor grid and alert system. It would also require an armed military presence on or orbiting Uzh T’Khasi in order to intervene should one of the aforementioned entities choose to strike. It is this point which I find most …objectionable.” Spock tilted his head for emphasis and glanced at each of the five Council Ministers, lingering point-three-four seconds longer on his father’s face.

“While your objection is shared by many on this Council, it is also logical to protect the few Vulcans that remain,” his father said. “There has been no military presence on Vulcan since the days of Surak and it is no small matter to be considering this course of action.”

Minister Kanar spoke, “Due to the weight of this decision, the Council has agreed that more consideration and technical planning is required. Given the depth of your experience in Starfleet and your high level of scientific knowledge, we have nominated you to act as our Liaison to Starfleet. We shall task you with the role of communicating with Starfleet command and its scientists to create a design that will serve to defend Uzh T’Khasi, but will not betray our commitment to peace. We trust that you will not object to this role.”

Spock considered for a brief moment. “I am honored, Ministers. I accept your nomination. I shall begin immediately.”

After a pause, Spock nodded to the Council once more and took his leave.

A few minutes later, his father emerged with T’Naya and sought out his presence. “Spock, do you have a moment to talk?”

“Of course, father,” Spock said, and nodded to the petite woman at his father’s side. She appeared to be several years younger than Spock and was an accomplished politician in her own right. She had been aide to a Minister from a Western province on Vulcan and happened to be off-planet during _Va’Pak_.

“I was not aware that the Council would task me with this role,” Spock said as the three of them walked towards the building exit. He glanced at his father’s passive face, but it told him nothing.

“It was suggested by Minister T’Korva this morning and we all were in quick agreement.”

“It is a logical plan, father,” Spock answered, suppressing a surge of undefined anxiety related to communicating once again with Starfleet. He had worked hard to leave that aspect of his life behind. 

T’Naya spoke next, “Spock, I will be assisting you in your role as Liaison. What would you have me do?” 

He pondered the question for a long moment as they walked through a tunnel towards a small central garden. “It will be necessary to speak to the chief system designer and the commanding officer in charge of the project.”

“Right away, Spock. The Council has also provided you with a small office. Shall I show you the way?” T’Naya glanced at Spock, then to Sarek.

“Yes, that would be appropriate.” Spock looked at his father whose footsteps had slowed. “Father, will you accompany us?”

“No, Spock, I am needed elsewhere. May I extend an invitation to join me for lunch after you have appraised your office? I have a private matter to discuss with you.”

“Of course, father. Where shall I meet you?” Spock asked, falling easily into the formality he’d always had with Sarek.

“My personal quarters, Spock. I am going there now and will see you shortly.”

“Very well, father.” He watched for a moment as his father strode off towards the Council’s private living chambers.

T’Naya extended her arm and directed them towards a door east of their current location. The air pressure changed as they emerged into the late morning sun, and Spock squinted slightly. After a short walk across a stone pathway, T’Naya opened another, dark-colored door and Spock walked in behind her. 

She stopped just short of the next cross-corridor and palmed the doorknob. “Here it is, Spock. It has a secure connection to the central communications hub and access to a meeting room in the next corridor. While I shall remain in service of Minister Sarek, I have been instructed to devote sixty-five percent of my efforts in assisting you with this important project.”

“Understood, T’Naya. I shall familiarize myself with the communication systems and begin this afternoon. I will require an additional PADD, secure, of course, and additional hardware and software to facilitate my work. I will provide you with a list this afternoon after lunch with my father. Is there anything else you need at the moment?” Spock was surprised at how easily he fell back into his role of a project leader. The six years he had spent commanding others appeared to have become quite natural to him. 

“No, that is sufficient. I shall await word from you. My contact information is on your desk.”

“Very well, T’Naya,” Spock said, and watched as the woman turned away and left the office. As she retreated, Spock closed the door and let out a breath. 

Several thoughts sought purchase in his consciousness. Primarily, of course, was the task laid out before him and the enormity of balancing pacifism and defense in a way that would honor the teachings of Surak. Secondarily, and no less worrisome, was the thought of once again interacting with Starfleet personnel. It had only been a few weeks since he’d resigned, but he had made great strides in achieving a more peaceful existence as a Vulcan citizen alone. Moreover, since his return to Vulcan, he had not spoken to anyone familiar with his service, and thus, had not endured the endless stream of questions about capturing Khan, about how Captain Kirk had survived, and now, of course, questions about why he’d resigned his commission. None of these were topics upon which he desired to comment. 

It was, he suspected, inevitable, and as he walked out of his new office, he prepared his responses, one by one, until he was satisfied he could answer without affect. His decision had been logical and he was far more at peace now than he could have ever been remaining on the Enterprise. 

He had chosen wisely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _azenoi_ : meditation pot  
>  _balk’ra_ : aromatic casserole


	5. Unexpected News

Spock arranged the sparse supplies in his new office and left, heading back down the short hall and into the open air. The Council building was busy this time of day and he acknowledged several other Vulcans as he passed through the doors and back into the main pavilion. His father’s quarters were at the end of a long hall, marked by a door with a Ministerial symbol stamped into the center of it. As he viewed the plain hallway, he recalled the grandeur of his childhood home, with its wide veranda where his mother would often sit in the late evenings after the sun had dipped low on the horizon behind the house. Spock reflected on the sight of her in his mind, her hair wrapped in a scarf with dark tendrils whipping about her face. He noticed that he did not feel the seizing pain he had once felt in remembering her. It satisfied him to have gained control over those tumultuous emotions.

Squaring his shoulders, Spock knocked on the door. He aligned his thoughts once again to the task he had been assigned. In the few moments before his father answered, he had devised several more questions to ask the chief system designer. After a soft shuffling at the door, it opened, revealing Sarek, still in his customary Minister robes. 

“Welcome, Spock. I am gratified by your presence,” Sarek said, opening the door wide to invite his son inside.

“Your invitation was timely, father, as I have questions about the project.” Spock proceeded into the small living room and waited for his father’s direction. 

Despite having seen his quarters once before, the living room felt unfamiliar to him. Due to his mother’s presence in their Vulcan home, he had always associated his father with a warmth that was no longer present. It was not merely the absence of his mother, Spock realized, but also the lack of art and furnishings, particularly the absence of rugs and wall hangings that had adorned many a home on Vulcan. He realized, too, that it had been his mother’s hand that had created that warmth, a human need, he supposed, now gone from their lives. In its place, his father, like so many other Vulcans, would find it illogical to spend time displaying wares when there was important work to be done to establish the new colony. 

Sarek interrupted Spock’s observations. “I took the liberty of setting out lunch. Shall we talk as we eat?” His father tilted his head slightly and gestured towards the table where a meal had already been arranged.

“Yes, father.” Spock smoothed his robe and followed his father to the table. 

Sarek had set out a simple lunch of _mashya, thuhk,_ and _kap,_ a root vegetable, a fragrant cheese, and bread common to Vulcan, each of which had been reproduced in close proximity to their original form. In addition to this fare, was a plump round fruit Spock had never seen. “What is this, father?” Spock asked, examining the fist-sized fruit that most resembled _kasa_ although appeared nearly pink in color with two thick green leaves emerging from the stem. He wondered if it also produced a beverage similar to the _kasa’s_ alcoholic beverage that had become popular on Earth.

“It is called _vala_ and one eats both the leaves and the flesh part of the fruit. It has been described as combining the Earth flavor of mint with the subtle flavors of strawberries. I find that I agree with the likeness.”

“Interesting,” Spock said and took a seat across from his father. 

It occurred to Spock as he broke a piece of _kap_ from the loaf, that it had been years since he and his father had shared a meal. The last time had been three-point-six years prior when his mother had fallen ill and Spock had taken leave from Starfleet to visit her. The trip to Vulcan had been pleasant, although brief, as Spock had been obligated to several projects at the time of her illness. He had come upon his mother, arriving earlier than planned, as she lay next to the wide bank of solar windows, staring out at the mountains. Her skin was pale and her hair, uncovered, lay tangled against the too-bright yellow pillows of the window seat. He remembered how her skin had brightened temporarily with pleasure at the sight of him. For all of her many years on Vulcan, she did not repress her outward emotional expression with her son. This, he realized with some note, was one of the things he most admired about her.

“Spock, I should speak to you without delay regarding a personal matter,” Sarek said, cutting the _vala_ into two halves and dividing the leaves into quarters. 

“Yes, father. I am listening.” Spock glanced at Sarek and took a sip of his water. 

“The breeding program runs apace of our predictions and the Council is quite pleased. A copy of our genetic matching program, as you know, was retrieved from Starfleet where it had been undergoing modifications for humans. After much detailed work, the breeding scientists were able to create matches for most of the men and women who survived the Va’Pak.”

“I am aware of these facts, father.” Spock was struck by some hesitance in his father’s speech pattern. 

“Yes, indeed,” his father said, sliding Spock’s portion of the _vala_ towards him on a small earthenware plate. “Through the matching program, two potential mates were identified for me, and having met both women, a _koon-ut-la_ has been established.”

“A preliminary bond,” Spock intoned, then placed a morsel of _mashya_ into his mouth with thin chopsticks.

“Yes. It has been determined that since the _Va’Pak_ a shallow bond should be performed prior to a full bonding in order to enhance compatibility.”

“What is the explanation for this?” Spock asked, curious about this unusual process. Normally, two adults without other bonds could enter into the _T’telan_ with haste, securing their relationship and beginning their lives together.

His father cleared his throat. “As it has been explained to me, the Va’Pak left most Vulcans with unexpected damage to the bonding areas of the brain. The healers have learned that a full and immediate marital bond causes considerable distress for one or both parties and is to be avoided in its traditional form.”

Spock allowed a small wrinkle between his brows. “That is most curious, father. In my teachings, I learned that the marital bond was healing in nature and provided comfort and solace in the face of unusual emotional distress.”

“That is true, Spock. It has been a most curious problem. Fortunately, it was discovered, quite by accident, that the damaged area responds well to repeated shallow melds, followed by a slower, more careful _T’telan_. The reasons for this are yet unknown, but the healers have said it is so, and we must accept this as truth.”

Spock watched his father as he spoke, observing the deepened lines around his eyes and mouth. He had visibly aged since the time immediately following the Va’Pak. Spock wondered if his father saw the same change in his own younger features.

“I understand, father,” Spock said, noting a twinge of emotion related to his father’s news of a new bond. “Will you tell me of your new bondmate?” he asked, more out of politeness, than a genuine curiosity.

“She is a well-known lecturer and expert on the lesser works of Surak. You may have heard of her, T’Zenh, daughter of the House of Bon’ak.”

“Of course, father. I am aware of her prestige. You have chosen well.” Spock reached for his portion of the _vala_ , wrapping one slice of the fruit inside a thick leaf. He bit into it and his mouth filled with a sticky sweetness. He swallowed it down, displeased at the cloying flavor, and took a long drink of water. 

His father appraised him briefly, his face expressionless. “We are to be bonded in two days. I trust you will attend the ceremony?”

“Of course, father,” Spock answered, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I trust that T’Zenh is fertile.”

“The tests indicate such, although she had chosen not to reproduce out of deference for her studies.”

“I see. I must admit to understanding the sentiment, although our circumstances are not similar.”

“Indeed, Spock, and so to my next topic.” Sarek placed a piece of _kap_ and a slice of _thuhk_ on his plate.

Spock glanced at him curiously and waited for him to speak again.

“Will you bond, as well, Spock?” Sarek asked, his eyes catching Spock’s only briefly.

Spock shook his head, surprised his own human gesture. “I have no need of a bond, father, as I have indicated to you on a previous occasion.” The conversation about bonding seemed to trigger hidden thoughts that pressed against his mind. They were formless, and thus, Spock ignored them. 

“While I understand your words, Spock, I am not aware of the motive behind your decision.” His father took a bite of _kap_ , leaving a small crumb on his lower lip as he chewed.

“I am sterile, father. A bond is unnecessary.” Spock made the statement flatly, well used to the idea in his mind. The news, which some would consider dire, had been delivered to him shortly after entering puberty. The Vulcan doctors had informed his parents of his condition with little fanfare. His mother, of course, had been upset, but had calmed quickly, offering reassurances that Spock had not needed. Given his mixed heritage, he had postulated that he might be unable to procreate, and thus had been relatively prepared for the news. In light of the medical information, his childhood bond with T’Pring had been severed. It had been, from that point forward, illogical to consider bonding with anyone else... 

Spock was aware once more of a distant thought and shifted his attention to examine it. A hazy recollection began to form until it was interrupted by his father’s next shocking statement.

“It has come to my attention that a fruitful bond might be possible for you.” Sarek stared at his son with slightly pursed lips.

Spock’s fingers froze partway to his mouth. “Explain, father.”

“Our scientists have refined the genetic analysis to account for all known anomalies in the _orishansu_. Your unique heritage as half-human and half-Vulcan has been further studied. The anomalies once believed to render you infertile, might be suitable for modification. It is possible that you could procreate, Spock.”

Spock swallowed against a dry throat. His father's gaze held a note of hope. 

“I must admit to some surprise,” Spock finally answered. Alongside his surprise was a sense of confusion; he had no line of thoughts prepared for this information. His ever present logic now escaped him and he felt his hand tremble. To mask the movement, he reached once more for the _kap_ and broke of another piece off the crusty loaf, scattering crumbs along the table’s surface.

Sarek spoke with some additional strain in his voice, “I request that you present yourself for further testing. Do you agree?”

Spock delayed meeting his father’s eyes and busied himself with pouring more water into his glass from a pitcher on the table. “I am amenable to more testing, but I shall not agree to anything further.” Spock felt his back stiffen as he asserted his position. The old conflicts he’d had with his father rose up in his mind, the many cold weeks of his adolescence, during which his father had refused to speak to him. He remembered his mother’s hushed insistence and, later, tears as their quarrels remained unresolved.

Sarek regarded him with a steady gaze and Spock wondered if he had been recalling the same string of arguments and coldness between them. It was as if a chill had come into the room, despite the dry heat of the midday sun. “It appears that I must accept your decision," Sarek said. "I will await the results and I encourage you to consider all avenues in this matter.” 

“I will pursue a logical course, father,” Spock said, then paused, feeling the illogical need to offer a token of hope to his father, who had also lost so much. “It is wise to cultivate multiple options.” 

And with that sentiment, the matter appeared to be closed. 

Not long after their conversation, the pair finished their meal and Spock left his father’s apartment. His mind was askew, set off-kilter with the news of his possible fertility. It was an unexpected turn of events, and just on the heels of his appointment as Liaison to Starfleet. The two new pieces of information, so divergent in nature, competed for his attention as he walked towards his new office. He drew the conclusion that additional meditation time would be required this evening and he adjusted his afternoon plans to accommodate for the change. In the interim, he would consult once again with T'Naya about the numerous questions he had formulated regarding the defense network.

Later, he would tend to the questions in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _mashya,_ a tuberous vegetable  
>  _thuhk,_ cheese  
>  _kap,_ bread  
>  _kasa,_ a type of fruit used in the making of a distilled juice that Humans find very potent  
>  _vala,_ a fruit native to Uzh T’Khasi  
>  _T’telan,_ a bond  
>  _koon'ut'la,_ bond between children


	6. In Pursuit

The transport landed with a trembling thud that jarred Jim awake. He blinked and felt the settling of the ship around him, releasing a whoosh of air and then a quieting of the engines. Passengers around him began to gather their belongings as Jim stretched and yawned, trying to clear the cloud of sleep in his head. He felt around his seat for his PADD, finding it on the floor where it must have fallen while he slept. 

Ahead of him, Stosh and the contingent of other Vulcans had begun to prepare themselves to exit the transport. Jim watched, gathering his thoughts and catching the Vulcan’s eye. The stately figure turned to face him, one hand resting on the seat two rows away. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain. May I offer you long life,” Stosh said, and raised his hand in the _ta’al_. 

Jim nodded and gave a half-wave, never quite sure what to do when offered the _ta’al_ ; he felt odd returning it directly. “You, too,” he said lamely. So much for diplomatic skill.

A moment later, he felt the pressure change and an immediate wave of heat coming through the open hatch. He breathed deeply, loving the first moments of discovery of a new planet. For as much as this journey troubled him, exploring New Vulcan would be a thrill. He’d seen the reports on the new planet, with vast mountain ranges and more temperate zones than the brutal climate of Vulcan. The primary city where they had arrived was located in the hottest region, a fact about which Jim was not so enthusiastic. 

Feeling heat pricking at the his skin, Jim pushed up his sleeves.

As the ship emptied, Jim stood and retrieved his bag, slipping his PADD into the front pocket before slinging it over his shoulder. He moved down the aisle and through the hatch onto the ramp descending to a plateau of dark rock beneath him. He glanced around, taking in the landscape, barren and stark with mountainous peaks poking sharply toward a pale purplish sky. Jim squinted and raised his hand to shield his eyes. With his other hand, he dug around for his sunglasses, finding them finally in the side pocket of his duffel. He slipped them on and followed the last few passengers toward a small welcome building.

“Greetings, Captain Kirk,” a Vulcan woman said in Standard, nodding officiously. She tapped at a computer screen for a moment and looked up at him. “I am T’Pouur. It is our honor to receive you on Uzh T’Khasi.”

Jim grinned. “Thanks! Good to be here!” The woman blinked and Jim enjoyed her slight show of surprise, one he would not have noticed had he not been so familiar with the tiny variations in Spock’s expressions. 

“If you will follow me,” she said, “your quarters have been prepared.” The woman strode forward and Jim wondered why he had quarters—he had not arranged any. With only a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged and followed. He sure wasn’t going to say no. He watched her short dark hair bob at her collar as they threaded through a throng of passengers awaiting clearances to depart into the city. 

Scattered through the welcome center were throngs of Vulcans and at least one small party of Donorans, not to mention the numerous Vulcans working at various kiosks and shops around the facility. As he appraised them, he was surprised at the range of colors and hairstyles they wore. The Vulcans Jim had previously met had all sported the typical severe bowl cut and drably colored long, multi-layered robes. In ten short minutes, however, he had seen robes in a variety of colors, lengths, and styles, along with a fascinating array of women’s hairstyles. Some of the Vulcan women, Jim noticed with surprise, had hair piled high atop their heads in complex rings. He watched in open fascination, a wide grin on his face, as curious Vulcan eyes tracked his movement out of the main building and through a crowded hallway into an open courtyard.

Jim slid his sunglasses off his head as they emerged into the sun once more. He glanced at his chrono, seeing it was just after lunch, and as if on cue, his stomach grumbled uncomfortably. He was never much for eating en route, so food, even the bland Vulcan variety he had sampled in the Academy, sounded really good right now. 

“How far is it?” Jim asked as they turned through several seemingly endless corridors. 

“Ninety-one seconds, Captain,” the woman responded.

“Do you think we could stop somewhere and get some food?” he asked as his stomach growled more loudly. 

T'pouur paused and turned towards him. “Your quarters have been prepared in the human style and include some items known to be compatible with human digestion. If they are not sufficient please use the room’s communication device to contact me. I have programmed my number into the device for your convenience.” The Vulcan stared at Jim expectantly. 

“Oh, okay.” Jim said. _Except I’m allergic to everything._

The Vulcan moved forward and Jim followed through two more corridors until they arrived at the last door at the end of a muted gray hallway. She open the door to reveal a brightly-lit room with the same colored gray walls and a few pieces of furniture. Through the window directly opposite the door, Jim could see the movement of giant machinery as they worked to build more structures the city. 

Jim stepped into the room as the Vulcan waited outside. “Thank you, T'Pouur. I appreciate your hospitality. But I gotta ask why you have a room ready for me? I mean, no one knew I was coming.”

“The Vulcan High Council was informed of your presence on the transport. You are well known to the people of Uzh’Tkhasi for your rescue efforts. We consider you an honored guest.”

Instead of taking the compliment, he felt the weight of what they had actually failed to do and shook his head faintly. Billions of souls…Spock’s mom. 

“It wasn’t me. It was Commander Spock. He knew exactly what to do.” Jim answered, running a hand through his hair. They’d come a long way since that terrible day, but being here…

“I grieve with thee,” Jim added abruptly. 

“Thank you, Captain. I will leave you now.” 

~*~

As soon as the Vulcan left, Jim tore off his clothing and stepped into the sonic shower. It seemed that Stosh, or one of his fellow travelers, was as gossipy or nosy as a human and had commed someone about his presence on the transport. He should've expected that he wouldn't be able to come to Vulcan without someone knowing. 

Within just a few minutes, Jim emerged from the shower and pulled on fresh clothing. He was hanging his travel clothes on the hooks in the bathroom when his comm chirped.

"Kirk here."

"Captain, it’s Uhura. I have just received word from Admiral Komack that you are to meet with the Vulcan High Council and assist the Liaison to Starfleet in the Vulcan Defense Project."

"Really? He didn't say anything when I had my leave approved. The operative word being leave. You know, without work..."

"Not sure, Captain, but the orders are clear. Do you want me to transmit them to your PADD? I also have materials you might want to review before the meeting."

"Yeah, all right. Send them over..." Jim said, fixing his hair in the mirror before checking inside his bag. "Good thing I packed a uniform. That Komack's a sneaky bastard." Jim had learned to expect anything, and took his simple duty uniform everywhere, which was just fine because it was designed of the most amazing material that rolled up into a nice little ball that he could throw into his bag. 

"Any word on Spock, Captain?" Uhura asked. 

"Not yet. I got here less than an hour ago. I'm gonna try to find him after I eat and I'll go from there. Has a meeting been set? A time maybe?"

"Awaiting details, sir. Do you want me to contact Admiral Komack’s office?"

"No, thanks. I’ll handle it on my own. Thanks Lieutenant."

“You’re welcome, sir. And, captain, good luck with Spock.”

Jim gave a wry smile. “Thanks. Kirk out.” 

Jim gave his hair a final pat and slipped his ID into his pocket. He glanced over at square comm device on the desk and pushed the button marked T'Pouur, waiting as the call connected. 

"Captain Kirk. I was just about to contact you."

"Yeah, I just got word from Lieutenant Uhura that the High Council wants meet with me."

"Yes, Captain. You have been invited to attend a meeting at 1800 hours local time. Several members of the High Council and the Liaison to Starfleet will be in attendance. Shall I send your acknowledgment?"

Jim glanced at the time on his comm. Five hours — just enough time to eat, look around a bit, and review the files Uhura was going to send to his PADD.

"Sure. Sounds great. How do I get there, by the way? I have no idea where it is."

"I will come to your quarters ten minutes prior to the meeting and guide you."

"Okay, good. Talk to you then." The call disconnected and Jim walked over to the window. He had a couple of hours to kill and he wanted to see what he could explore.

Jim grabbed his personal comm, filled a water bottle, and headed out the door. As he left, he glanced at the doorknob but saw no lock. Figures. Vulcans must just be too logical to steal. He pulled the door closed and strode down the hall toward the sunlight. 

Squinting as he stepped outside, he pulled on his sunglasses, glancing around to take in the people and the local sights. He had to admit it looked just like every other desert planet he’d visited, except that everything was new. He'd seen pictures of Vulcan, of course, and the enormous cities carved out of rock that had stood for ten thousand years or more. Jim couldn't imagine what it must be like to have none of that stately and impressive architecture. While the new buildings were sturdy, they seemed no more than practical, with the same gray exterior as the interior. He tried not to think too much about how it must be for them, imagining instead that Vulcans probably just saw it as practical. 

From monthly reports, he knew they were most focused on rebuilding their race through an enhanced breeding program. His relationship with Spock had taught him that they probably didn't care where they lived as long as they were safe. That thought drew Jim's attention to the Vulcan Defense Project. It was something he was familiar with, of course, having been on the team that saved the High Council and all, but he knew there was much debate about its necessity. A crazed Romulan from the future wasn't likely to strike again. Nonetheless, the project was moving forward. If he could offer assistance, he was happy to do it.

Jim turned and walked along a concrete path to skirt along the outside of a long building. In the distance, to the east, he thought, he was able to see the huge machines at work and a throng of Vulcans milling about with hardhats and light-colored robes. It always struck Jim as odd to see Vulcans doing anything other than thinking. He had seen Spock in action many times on various missions, but in his mind's eye he always saw him standing calmly with his hands behind his back thinking. But they did work, Jim could see, and he paused to watch as a crane lifted an enormous prefab roof and lowered it carefully onto a structure. Jim knew that massive transporters were used to ship materials from planets in the same quadrant, but seeing them being built was cool.

Jim watched for a while and then continued his walk, taking sips of water as he strolled. There wasn't much vegetation and what he could see looked new and almost...decorative. He wondered if someone had an eye to the aesthetic instead of just practicalities. Jim turned a few more corners and saw the light glinting off a glass structure. A pair of greenhouses -- that made a lot of sense. He knew the climate of New Vulcan was different from Vulcan and there were efforts to grow the same kinds of crops that had done well on Vulcan. He didn't know the details but assumed that Vulcans, with their big brains, would figure it out. 

Jim mostly ignored the people he passed, nodding if they attempted greetings, but mostly keeping to himself. He had long given up on the idea that he would bump into Spock, knowing instead that he would have to do a little research to figure out where he was. He didn't know why, but he felt a little odd asking to T’Pouur his whereabouts. He knew eventually that he would have to do it, but there was an odd feeling he had, like some universal resistance keeping him from finding Spock. It made no sense but the feeling was there nonetheless. There was no doubt that he’d find him eventually. He was Jim Kirk and he hadn’t traveled all this way to leave without a conversation. In his heart, though, he hoped for a lot more. 

~*~

As Jim walked with T’Pouur towards the meeting several hours later, the main hall came into view. The size of it surprised him as did the wide expanse of the front entrance which brought to mind the grand architecture of Vulcan that he had thought missing. Framed with a sharply arched visage made of dark reddish-gray stone, the building, not visible from Jim’s quarters, was built into the side of a rock formation jutting sharply out of the southernmost edge of the building. It was breathtaking to behold.

“Ti'Valka'ain was built with the assistance of many civilizations after this planet was chosen. Inside you will see artifacts and homage to T’Khasi from the galaxy’s greatest artists.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jim said. “How long did it take to carve out?” 

“The facade took several months and employed stonemasons from many planets. The building was designed by T’Graff, Vulcan’s most prized architect. She was on Terra during Va’Pak.” T’Pouur’s pace was steady, but he thought he detected a waver in her voice.

“Wait, I know that name. She designed the Fitzgerald Theater in Chicago? She said it was her most challenging work due to heavy use of water in the final design.”

“Your knowledge of T’Graff is surprising,” T’Pouur gave Jim a sidelong glance. 

“Space voyages have a lot of down time between crises. And I am a curious guy.” 

“I assume that your former First Officer, S’chn t’gai Spock, answered many of your questions.” 

“Yeah. A lot of them, but I like to read.” Jim shrugged. 

They walked for another few moments and began to ascend the long set of steps leading into the main entrance.

“Speaking of Spock, do you know where he might be living? I’d like to stop by and see him.” Jim hoped his tone was casual despite his suddenly racing heart.

“That will not be necessary, Captain.” T’Pourr said, her brow wrinkling slightly as she pulled open the heavy door.

“Why’s that?” 

“You will see him momentarily, Captain. Spock is the Liaison to Starfleet.”

“He’s the what?” Jim asked, mouth falling open as he passed through the heavy doors. His skin prickled at the thought of seeing him again.

“Spock was appointed to the position several days ago.” 

Their footsteps echoed in the grand hall before T’Pouur led them into one of the less ornate side rooms. Jim entered, a ready smile on his face, eager to see his former First Officer. 

But the room was empty.

“We are three minutes early. My estimates were based on your lack of acclimation to the Vulcan climate, and therefore, a slower pace.”

“No problem. I guess I should sit.” Jim glanced around at the five seats on a raised platform at the front of the room and the two tables in front of those for everyone else to sit. Jim slid out a chair and emptied his pockets of his ID packet and his comm. 

As he expected, the Vulcan High Council came through the doors right on time. They were an impressive bunch, much more put together than the last time he’d seen them, so soon after Nero. 

Just behind them, he glimpsed Spock and giant grin spread across his face. It took all he had not to shout his name like an excited kid at a baseball game.

“Captain Kirk. It is a pleasure to see you again,” Sarek said to Jim, capturing his attention before he could rush to Spock. Jim lowered the wattage on his smile and met the Minister’s dark eyes. He felt a blush rising into his cheeks. 

“And under better circumstances, Minister.” 

“Indeed,” came the response from Spock’s father. Jim squirmed a little at the disapproving tone, or maybe the Vulcan tone. He couldn’t even tell. It was weird though, especially considering that his son had nearly choked him to death and then he’d taken his job. 

Jim glanced past Sarek as he stepped onto the platform and tried to catch Spock’s eye. Before he could, Spock turned away, face placid and cool, leaving Jim staring at his back in confusion. His textured dark gray robe hid his form, leaving only the swath of pale skin between his short-cropped dark hair and the stiff collar. 

Just as Jim took a step towards Spock, a gavel sounded. “Let us begin.” A deep voice emerged from the Minister’s table and Jim tore his eyes away from Spock. The Vulcan who spoke was a white-haired gentleman with deep brown skin and a rich orange robe lit with gold threads.

“I am Halvan. Please be seated, Captain Kirk.” 

Jim glanced around him and gave a half-smile as he pulled out his chair with a scrape and sat. At his table was a stack of PADDS and T’Pouur, sitting straight up with her hands folded in front of her. 

Halvan continued speaking, only his mouth moving and the rest of him completely still. “It is our pleasure to welcome you here, Captain. It has been more than a year since Va’Pak and still we honor your name and the names of your crew, including former commander Spock, who worked diligently to save what could be saved. We are in your debt.”

The Vulcan’s expression didn’t match the his words, but the other ministers nodded and Jim drew a breath, a tight feeling growing in his chest at the mention of what Nero had done. Thankfully, a year of diplomacy under Spock’s and Uhura’s tutelage had helped him suppress those feelings and stay focused.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Minister. It was Comm-, uh, former Commander Spock who was brave enough to risk his life to beam down to the planet when it was collapsing. I wish more could have been done. I grieve with thee.” Jim lowered his head slightly and stared at the dark wood of the ministers' table.

“We are indeed grateful for Spock’s return to Uzh T’Khasi and we welcome Starfleet’s further assistance with our defense. Shall we begin with introductions.”

When each of the ministers had completed their statements, Halvan turned his gaze to the table next to him. Jim turned his head fully to stare at his former First Officer.

“Liaison Spock, please add your comments,” Halvan instructed.

And for the first time, his eyes fastened on the beauty of this being he had shared so much with. In a flash, he remembered his lust-filled words after a passionate kiss in the corridor: “We’ll do this for real…” and then he had left him to go die in the warp core with no time to say anything that mattered.

Spock glanced in Jim’s direction as he spoke. “It is indeed fortuitous that Captain Kirk is available to assist us with the defense plan. His command experience and creativity will undoubtedly provide useful insights into our current plans.”

Jim watched Spock, waiting, hoping that he would look his way again, really see him instead acting like he was some figurehead and not the man he’d kissed not so long ago. Damn, screw the kiss, what about that epic friendship, the one old Spock had told him about. Where was that? 

But Spock did none of it. He simply answered the questions as if Jim was a stranger and Jim felt his heart sink, low and painful, and he wanted to shout out, hurling questions of why. When Spock did glance his way, Jim tried to push his questions through the brief eye contact, but Spock’s eyes simply skittered away, face placid as ever. Jim could barely focus on the Vulcan’s words. Instead he felt a queasy lurch in his stomach. Why was this happening? Why was Spock acting this way? 

The meeting dragged on for twenty more minutes and Jim stumbled his way through a litany of questions and concerns posed by the Council. He’d only just read the project details, so the longer he spoke the more out of his depth he felt. He’d come for Spock, not this, and by the end of it, his head ached and his command shirt was sticky against his back. 

When the meeting ended, the ministers filed out with Spock following quickly behind them. This time, Jim just watched, feeling deflated, confused, and sad. He gathered up his ID and comm and shoved them into his pockets as T’Pouur spoke briefly to Spock’s assistant. Jim didn’t even bother to listen, just gazed at the marbled floor until the swirling patterns blurred together.


	7. Chaos in the Mind

Spock followed closely on the heels of the last minister to leave the hearing room, watching the hem of his sapphire robe flap against the marble column as they turned the corner to pass through the great hall. His controls were weakening further and he took a deep breath, letting the bustle around him fall into white noise. He knew the path to his quarters without thinking and he let his memory guide him while he focused on the heavier-than-usual rhythm of his inhalations.

Seeing Jim, despite his deep meditation shortly before the hearing, had triggered a chain of events in his mind, memories coming in red-faced flashes of Jim’s dying breaths. He’d managed to stumble through his discussion of the defense project, but he could not look at him. It was only now that he had left the building that he felt his controls strengthening at all. 

With the hot sun on his back, Spock sped down the path towards his quarters, mindless of the Vulcans he passed on the wide pathways. He schooled his features as best he could, but once he opened the door to his quarters, he was overcome by a deep, hot flush across his face and his hands trembled. His human half, the weak, emotionally-compromised part of him, reduced his remaining controls to shreds. How he hated it in this moment, the emotionality that had cost him so much — his career at Starfleet, his father’s affections, Jim… 

Spock stumbled to the corner and retrieved his meditation mat. Drawing a thin breath, he lit the _azenoi_ and added extra incense. He wanted to obliterate his feelings and return to the cool logic he’d managed to find in the weeks since he’d parted from his captain. It was the only solution and he _would_ do it. 

He had to.

~*~

One point six hours later, Spock gave up on meditating and chose instead to prepare a small meal. His mind felt certainly more ordered, but much less so than he desired. His physical state had improved and he gathered fruit and bread from the small kitchen. As he cut the _vala_ his mind began to turn to the Council meeting and to his former captain who had seemed well and fit, despite his ordeal. For that, he could admit he was grateful. 

Spock skirted any thoughts of his feelings for Jim, feeling confident the only way to manage them was to keep them under the tight controls he had developed since he’d left Earth. And so he did, mentally reviewing only the technical details of the Council meeting and formulating a task list for the next day, when he would meet with the computer engineers to discuss the system monitoring software. His captain would not be at that meeting and he was sure it would go as planned.

With some sense of satisfaction, Spock sat at his small table and began to feed himself. He felt more comfortable now, although he was unsure how he would restore himself adequately to interact with the captain. It should not be so hard, he told himself with chagrin. He had long since mastered the ways of Surak and this was simply a temporary obstacle. In the morning, he decided as he cut himself another slice of bread, he would visit the archives and review once more the initial meditation exercises for the kolinahr. That would serve him well in the upcoming days.

As Spock cleared the crumbs from his dinner, a firm knock sounded on his door. He brushed the crumbs into the wastebasket and pulled the door open. 

And there stood Jim, a hesitant smile on his face. Spock felt a deep fissure tear through his weakened shields.

“Spock?” Jim said, shifting from foot to foot and not quite meeting Spock’s eyes. “I, uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here. I just… I need to talk to you.” Jim raised his eyes, hooded as they were with his concerned brow. 

Spock took an involuntary step back, and gripped the edge of the door. His face must have betrayed his shock because Jim took a step forward, hand splayed out between them.

“Spock? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Jim looked around, as if unable to comprehend that he could be the cause of his reaction.

Spock squared his shoulders and let go of the door, clasping his hands painfully tightly behind his back. “Captain…my apologies,” he said, voice as calm as he could muster. He stared at the top of Jim’s cheeks, avoiding what he knew would be a vibrant, enthusiastic gaze. “I was surprised to learn of your arrival on Uzh T’Khasi. I trust that T’Pouur has acted as a suitable guide. The Council is pleased by your presence.” Spock took solace in the evenness of his tone and pulled himself together as well as he could manage.

“Um, okay. Whatever. But I didn’t come here for that. I came to find you. Spock, you resigned from Starfleet.” Jim’s expression was hurt and confused. “You didn’t even tell me. Didn’t wait until I woke up.” Spock saw Jim clamp his mouth suddenly and his chest expand with a deep breath. He recognized all of Jim’s emotions as plainly as recognizing the color of the sky.

“Okay. No. This is not how I wanted to do this. You must have had your reasons.” Jim shook his head and gave Spock a blinding grin. “Hi, Spock. How are you? How goes the reconstruction?” Jim stood with mock openness, his expression and posture clearly sarcastic.

“I…I am well, Captain. I must apologize, however, that this is not a suitable time to meet. I was just preparing a meal. Spock modulated his tone satisfactorily despite the return of the tightness in his chest.

“Spock, what’s going on?” Jim moved to enter Spock’s small quarters but the Vulcan did not move.

“Captain, I must insist. This is not an appropriate time.” Spock heard the pitch in his voice rise up and he clenched his jaw.

Jim seemed to ignore him. “Why are you avoiding me? What did I do? I don’t understand why you’re acting this way.” Jim threw his arms out wide in question.

“Captain…” Spock drew a sharp and painful breath and finally met the other man’s gaze. “You. Must. Leave.” And with that, he grabbed hold of the door again and thrust it closed with a crack. 

Through the door, he could hear the pain in Jim’s voice as he shouted at him, “Spock! What is going on?? Come on, Spock!” He waited, holding his breath, for the captain to begin pounding on the door, but it did not come. Instead, he heard a muffled curse and then he sensed the human moving away. It was only then that Spock could breathe.

Trembling, he slid to the floor, sitting with his head on his arms and feeling very much like a child. This place, so unfamiliar to him, with the sights and smells and flavor of a new home he did not want. It was only his father’s presence on the planet that seemed to tether him and even that was tenuous. 

Now, though, Jim had arrived and everything he had worked for was being destroyed. Logic could no longer be found; he felt instead a turbulent ocean of feelings threatening to drown him. His head throbbed, with wave after wave of pain preventing him from thinking — it was only feelings now and he did not know what to do. 

He sat for a long time, immersed in the chaos of memories that he’d believed purged, their force making him shudder with tears. Through the pain of Jim’s death was his mother, her terrified brown eyes staring at him as she dissolved into atoms. He could not save her and her katra was gone forever. He had failed. His mother, who would have held him and helped him with the human part of himself. His grief at her loss, so long ago hidden came back with a force that rendered him unable to function. Instead, he crawled to his bed and lay on his side staring at the pre-fabricated walls, his body shaking. The pain in his head spread from cell to cell until he lost awareness of the world around him and sank into a healing trance.

~*~

Spock woke suddenly with a cracking slap to the face.

“Spock!” It was his father’s voice accompanied by another slap.

He blinked his eyes open, his healing trance gone. “Father,” he said, struggling to sit up.

“You did not attend your meeting with the software engineers this morning and T’Pourr was unable to reach you. Are you ill?”

“No, father, I am fine.” Spock swung his feet to the floor, unwilling to be weak in front of his father.

“Your healing trance belies that statement.” Sarek stared down at him, lips pinched.

“I was struck with a headache last evening and a healing trance was necessary.” Spock straightened his tunic and stood, willing his weak legs to comply.

“And I trust you are recovered?”

“Yes, father. My apologies for failing to appear for the meeting. I trust that it has been rescheduled.” Spock turned to his father and let his face fall into a polite Vulcan expression. Behind his mask, he could feel the violence of his emotions stirring once again.

“Yes, Spock. But as you aware, you have several other meetings scheduled for today. Are you well enough to proceed?"

“Your concern is noted, father, but I am well.” Spock crossed the room and poured himself a glass of water, facing away from his father as he drank it. He used the time to compose himself further, to quell the storm inside him.

“Very well, Spock. I am gratified that you are functional.”

He faced his father again. “Indeed. Now that you have confirmed my health, is there another matter on your mind?” Spock asked, eager for his father to leave.

“Yes, Spock. I would like to inquire about your relationship with your former captain, James Kirk.”

Spock could not suppress a blink. “We have no relationship.”

“I observed that you did not greet your former captain during the Council meeting yesterday. I was under the impression that you had formed a pleasant working relationship with him, quite possibly, a friendship, in human terms.”

“Your impression would have been accurate during my service in Starfleet. Now, however, he is merely a former colleague.” Spock made his voice as unconcerned as he could.

“Perhaps.” Sarek paused and tilted his head. “I postulate, however, that there is more than you are willing to tell me. While you attempt to hide your emotional state, your controls are obviously weak. I can sense your distress through our familial bond, Spock. I must insist one more time that you visit the healer. You must do so to move forward with your pursuit of the kohlinar and it is not logical that you have resisted since your arrival. I trust you will rectify this error.” The faintest hint of censure tinged Sarek’s words.

Spock tightened his controls further, attempting, albeit too late, to shield his feelings. “In due course, father. My pursuit of the kolinahr will proceed apace. If there is anything else? I must contact T’Pouur.”

Sarek studied his son for a long moment then gave a curt nod. “Very well, Spock. I shall leave you now.”

With a swish of his robes, Sarek departed and closed the door without a sound. Spock stared after him, his body sagging with exhaustion. The healing trance had removed his headache, but his emotional turmoil remained, so intense that his father could sense it. He felt a deep shame, an inadequacy that he had not felt since he was an adolescent. Never had it been more apparent that he was not worthy of his Vulcan heritage, that maybe he should have never come to Uzh T’Khasi, that all of this was completely and utterly wrong.

He sat heavily at the table and rubbed his face, feeling more fragile than he’d ever felt before. The shock of his emotional turmoil had worn off, leaving him instead with a deep and profound sense of dread about his future. Without logic — without the clear simple peace that logic could bring him — he was nothing.


	8. The Search for Spock

The Vulcan sun climbed higher overhead and Jim’s neck began to heat. He moved from a table near the garden to one in a shadier spot. It felt better — for about a minute — and then he was just as hot again, only this time without the sizzling side effects. 

His brain was mush, really, and these documents full of technical details about the underground network installation were more than he could handle. He’d barely slept, tossing and turning despite having been mostly awake for two days. There was nothing in his mind that could help him understand why Spock had acted the way he did. Even Komack, asshole that he was, acted politely in official gatherings. Spock, though, he’d treated Jim like he wasn’t any better than shit on a shoe. It just didn’t make sense.

For the hundredth time, he scolded himself for obsessing and tried to focus on the details. He’d nearly succeeded when a brown-robed figure appeared in front of him.

“Jim Kirk. It is very pleasing to see you again.” 

When Jim looked up, his face broke into a wide grin. He stood, surprised, and greeted the older version of Spock. “Hey there, uh, Spock. How are you? You heard I was here, huh?”

“Indeed. It is hard to keep secrets in such a small community. And please call me Selek, to avoid confusion. How are you, my friend?” Selek motioned to a chair next to him and Jim nodded, inviting him to sit.

“Ugh. You want the official version? I am great, happy to be here, glad to be of assistance.” He gave a wry smile and dropped his pen on the table with a loud clack.

“And the unofficial version?” Selek asked, his brown eyes holding more humor than Jim expected.

“Well, I came here to find your younger you and got wrangled into _liaising_ with you guys on the Vulcan Defense Project. And if that wasn’t excitement enough, the younger you isn’t talking to me.” Jim hunched his shoulders and pouted. “And I don’t even know why…”

“That is surprising news, Jim. I was unaware you and Spock were quarreling, although that does make some sense.”

Jim gave him a side-eyed glance. “What are you talking about?”

“I was quite surprised to learn Spock had returned to Uzh T’Khasi. I thought his path was set when he remained on the Enterprise after the destruction of Vulcan. What has changed?”

Jim huffed air and slumped back in his seat. “Hell if I know. I mean, I, well, you know…I died, but I’m back now! You know, he didn’t even wait for me to wake up. Who does that? I thought we were friends!!” Jim’s hands gesticulated wildly, catching the attention of several passersby. He took a breath and calmed himself down.

“Jim, can you please explain what you mean by ‘I died’?” Selek’s face was slightly paler than it had been a moment ago.

“Shit. Well, Khan, you heard about Khan, right?” When Selek nodded, Jim continued. “He stole this massive ship, a Dreadnaught class ship from that asshole Admiral Marcus and tried to blow us into smithereens. The Enterprise lost power and was headed straight for Earth’s atmosphere. So…I did a thing and it was bad.” Jim glanced at Selek and swallowed. He wasn’t quite ready to talk about the details. “But I saved the ship and the crew.” He grinned then, shrugging off the discomfort. 

“Yet you are here…” Selek said, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Well, Bones, uh, Dr. McCoy injected me with some of Khan’s blood. Brought me back good as new.” Jim grinned and pumped his bicep as a show of strength. “See, not dead!” He felt a little charged up now that he was talking about the way everything went down.

“I am most pleased that you are not dead.” The elder Selek swallowed and pressed his lips together.

“What?” Jim asked, sobering at the old Vulcan’s face.

“You mentioned that Spock did not see you wake…were you unconscious?” 

“Yeah, about two weeks. Then physical therapy and now here I am. I couldn’t believe you resigned. Why would you do that? I mean the other you.” 

“I am not certain, Jim.” Selek shook his head slowly. “His path has diverted vastly from mine and not only because of Va’Pak.”

“Yeah, you’re not kidding. And I thought we were heading for that epic friendship, you know. You were right, by the way… We did become friends, but look at it now. He slammed a door in my face last night. I mean, come on, it’s happened before, but at least I knew why. This is just totally weird, man. Why are you guys like this?”

Selek took a deep breath and exhaled. “I wish I had the answers, Jim. It is possible that your death affected him in a way I do not yet understand.”

“But I’m not dead!” Jim slapped a hand on the table. This conversation was going nowhere.

“Indeed you are not.” 

For a few moments there was silence and Jim’s breathing evened out. He had to admi it felt good to express some of the anger he was feeling towards his Spock, even if it was to the other Spock. Aigh, the whole thing made his head hurt. 

Jim leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “What should I do, Spock, uh, I mean Selek? You know him better than anyone. Hell, you are him.” 

Selek seemed to frown before he spoke. “Jim, I do not have any answers for you, but I can tell you that when my Jim Kirk was taken into the Nexus, I experienced tremendous pain. Is it possible that you and my counterpart were…involved?”

“You mean like romantically? Were you two?” Jim blinked and felt the pieces of a puzzle start to clink into place.

“We were bondmates. I loved him very much.”

“Huh,” Jim said, his eyes going a little unfocused. He let Selek’s words sink in and barely suppressed a shudder because, really, how fucking creepy was this conversation?

“So were you romantically involved with my younger self?” Selek asked again.

“Aaah.” Jim raked a hand through his hair and glanced at the Vulcan. “A little. Maybe? One kiss, okay. Before I went into the warp core. I thought it meant something…I mean, it was awesome.” Jim felt heat rising into his face and averted his gaze.

“And before that?”

“I don’t know. We were spending our free time together. Playing chess, talking, just hanging out. I care about him, okay? That’s why this sucks.” Jim huffed a breath and eased back into his chair once more. He picked at the seam of his uniform pants and waited for Selek to say something. 

“I am sorry he has hurt you, Jim.” Selek turned in his chair, his brown eyes catching Jim’s. “Would you object to me speaking to Spock?”

“Hell, no. I welcome it. I sure as hell can’t get to him.” This whole situation was getting weirder and more frustrating by the minute. 

“Then that is what I shall do.” Selek touched Jim’s arm lightly. “Have faith, my friend, because you are right. I do know Spock better than anyone else and I have a theory about what has occurred.”

“What? What’s your theory?”

“Patience, Jim. I will find you later, after I have spoken to Spock. For now, I must go.”

“Okay. Well, it was great seeing you. Again. Good luck with yourself.” Jim chuckled at his joke and watched as the Vulcan turned and walked away. For the first time since the Council meeting, Jim had some hope.

~*~

Half an hour later, Jim strode down the hall towards the next meeting. He was slightly turned around, and kept looking behind him to see if he’d made a wrong turn. The long hallway just kept going and going and the farther he walked, the fewer people he saw.

At yet another juncture, the hallway split into two more hallways and Jim turned around to retrace his steps. He got halfway to where he’d started and paused near a familiar looking spiny plant and searched around for something that might tell him where to go.

“Are you in need of assistance, Captain?” a voice asked from behind him. 

When he turned, he saw Sarek.

“Oh. Hi, Ambassador. Yeah, I’m supposed to be in the _k'rhth'a_ wing?” He stumbled over the word that had almost no vowels. “Hell, I can’t even say it.” He held out a piece of paper for Sarek to see.

“You are some distance from the meeting room specified on your paper. May I escort you there?”

“Um, sure. If you’re not busy. You could point me in the right direction and I could probably find it.” Jim felt awkward as hell at the prospect of small talk with Spock’s father.

“I insist. I wished to speak to you anyway.” Sarek gestured towards the leftmost hallway. “Shall we?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Jim walked next to Sarek and they were silent for a few moments.

“May I make a personal inquiry, Captain?” Sarek finally asked as they turned down yet another narrow corridor.

"Um, sure...?" Jim thought this was probably a terrible idea, but he agreed anyway.

“Would it be accurate to label your relationship with Spock as a friendship?”

Jim was caught off guard and hesitated. “Uh, yeah. I mean it used to be before he resigned.”

“And now?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, maybe you should ask him.” Jim pulled at his collar. Didn’t these people believe in air conditioning?

“I have made inquiries with my son and have been provided with little information.”

“Yeah, join the club.”

Sarek glanced at Jim. “I see.”

Another few moments passed before Jim braved a question. “So, can I ask why you’re asking? I mean, he’s not in Starfleet anymore, so my relationship with him doesn’t matter. I might never see him again after this week.” Saying the words made Jim’s throat tight. Was that really how it was going to go?

“I care about my son and while I am grateful for his decision to assist in rebuilding, he is not the same man I left on the Enterprise two years ago.”

“No?” Jim asked, not quite sure what Sarek was driving at.

Suddenly, Sarek stopped and turned to Jim, his face showing some unexpected concern. “Spock and I have always had a difficult relationship. It was his mother who helped us achieve an understanding and to maintain our family ties. It has not always been easy. Despite that, I can sense that my son is deeply troubled and I want to know why.”

“I, uh, can’t really say, sir. Spock hasn’t confided in me. I mean, I wish he would, but he hasn’t. I haven’t spoken to him, except to have a door slammed in my face, since before he resigned. I, uh, was injured and before I could recover, Spock had left Starfleet.” Jim stopped and looked at Sarek with alarm. “Hey, don’t you know all of this already?” Sarek was Ambassador to Earth and everyone and their grandmother knew Jim had been in the hospital. He had the fanmail to prove it.

“Indeed, Captain. I read a briefing about your heroics. You are a man of great courage.” Sarek gave a brief nod and Jim’s face grew hot.

“Or stupidity,” he quipped, trying to lighten the tension.

After an awkward pause, Sarek began to walk again, turning into a large open room, similar to the one where Jim had started. He wrinkled his brow as they passed in the opposite direction he’d chosen and slipped into a wider, more finished hallway, only to be intercepted by T’Pouur. Jim exhaled and grinned.

“Ah, Captain. There you are. My apologies for not accompanying you. The meeting has started.”

“Yeah, got turned around. The Ambassador was kind enough to lead the way.” Jim gestured to Sarek who remained impassive.

“T’Pouur, when you return to the meeting room, ask my son to find me in my office when he has a moment. I will be there until eighteen hundred hours.”

“Spock is not in attendance, sir. He left word that he was canceling all of his meetings for today.”

Sarek tilted his head slightly. “That is unexpected. When I spoke to Spock this morning, he indicated that he was well enough to attend his appointments.”

“Spock is sick?” Jim asked, looking between Sarek and T’Pouur. 

They both ignored him. “I spoke with Spock at ten hundred hours, sir. He indicated his headache had returned and that he would reschedule his meetings at a later time. Is there cause for concern, minister?”

“No, I am sure Spock will take care of it.” He turned to Jim. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain. I have another commitment.” Sarek turned abruptly and strode down the hall.

“Captain, if you’re ready?” T’Pouur asked, ready to usher Jim into the meeting.

“Wait, Spock is sick? Is he okay?” Jim glanced towards Sarek’s retreating figure.

“Affirmative. He has reported a headache and will undoubtedly seek a healing trance. Shall we proceed to the meeting, Captain?”

Jim hesitated, glancing at the Vulcan woman then back down the now-empty corridor. Something wasn’t right. “But he’s Vulcan. Can’t you all just logic that away? Don’t you have body controls or something?” Jim gave her a quizzical expression.

“Indeed, Captain. For a minor physical ailment or in a crisis, we can suppress our pain response. Spock is perhaps suffering from pain that warrants a healing trance. You may inquire after him once our meeting is concluded.” T’Pouur motioned towards the open door just a few steps away.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.” Jim walked slowly, distracted, but then put a smile on his face as he walked into the conference room. 

“Hello everyone.” Jim pushed his worries aside and sat at the end of a long table cluttered with PADDs and papers. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“Apologies are unnecessary, Captain,” said the Chief Engineer, Senval. “Let’s begin with the manufacturing specifications. It is our understanding that Starfleet will provide the items listed on the first hundred pages. Is that accurate?”

“I will have to confirm it with HQ, but if that’s what you all agreed to…” Jim wasn’t sure why he was involved in this minutiae.

“I sense hesitation, Captain. May I inquire as to its source?” Senval asked.

“Um, sure. It seems like this is something that could be handled by a communique to HQ directly. That’s what I’ll be doing. Why not do that yourselves? Efficiency and all.” Jim tapped his foot under the table, impatient and distracted by his worry over Spock. 

“It is my impression that you have the role of authorizing the work to begin. Is this not the case, Captain?”

Jim leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “Sure, I can do that, but it doesn’t make sense to for me to review a hundred line items on a report. You want me to talk strategy? Threat potential? Come up with all the ways your plan won’t work? I can do that. But this, well, frankly, you should be going through someone lower level.”

“I see, Captain. That is logical. Let us confer for a few moments and redirect our efforts.” Senval glanced at the other Vulcans and Jim took it as a cue to stand. “I’ll be back,” he said and skirted past T’Pouur to go back into the hallway. 

A second later, T’Pouur was on his heels. “Captain, I see now that it was an error to include you in this low-level meeting.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s a big project and you’re understaffed. I just…” Jim tapped his palm against his thigh and shifted on his feet. “I can’t really focus right now and I want to check on Spock. Look, you can handle this, right? If something urgent requires my attention, comm me. Otherwise, can I just see you at this afternoon’s planning committee?”

T’Pouur gave a vague nod, her face confused, as many Vulcans have been by Jim’s obviously illogical and emotional train of thought.

“Listen, I gotta to go…” Jim was already halfway down the corridor by the time he finished his sentence. 

He gave her a little wave as he turned the corner to head into the main hall.

~*~

Jim was breathless as he arrived at the building housing Spock’s small quarters. He strode through the front door and down the short hall to find Spock’s door open. He approached, his heart racing from more than the brisk walk, and peeked inside. 

“Ambassador,” Jim said, seeing Sarek by the window.

“Captain. You have left your meeting.” Sarek turned and approached Jim. “As you can see, Spock is not here.”

“No, right. They didn’t need me at that meeting. Where do you think he is? At the healer’s?” Jim glanced around at Spock’s quarters again, taking in the few familiar belongings he remembered from the Enterprise. 

“Perhaps, although he has resisted a visit to a healer in the past.” Sarek looked at Jim thoughtfully. “Captain, it appears that you are quite worried about Spock. May I ask why?”

Jim rubbed at the back of his neck. “I, uh, I care about him. He’s my friend even if I’m not his. And something’s off, you know? I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s acting weird around me and I don’t understand why.”

“Nor do I, Captain. But I share your concerns. I believe it is time we found answers. Please follow me, Captain.” Sarek nodded and swept past Jim. After only the briefest hesitation, Jim closed Spock’s door and followed.

“Are we going to the healers?” Jim asked and sped up to catch Sarek as he left Spock’s building and passed into the courtyard.

“That is our first destination.” Sarek’s face was pinched with concentration, or maybe concern, Jim wasn’t sure.

“So you’re worried, too?” Jim asked. They passed several Vulcans who nodded respectfully at the pair of them. Jim gave perfunctory nods, feeling more like a Vulcan every minute.

“I…have concerns,” Sarek answered. Jim guessed that was the Vulcan equivalent of a freak out and it felt good to know he was in good company.

“Do you know why he didn’t see a healer before? I mean, isn’t that pretty standard since Nero?”

“Indeed, Captain. It was my impression that Spock saw a healer upon arriving here, but it is not the case.”

“Really? That is strange. So, you think something’s really wrong?” It was obvious Sarek was withholding information.

“It is possible,” was all the answer Sarek gave, and Jim shook his head.

“Man, you’re worse than Spock when it comes to getting information. I, for one, think something’s really wrong because Spock’s not a jerk, you know. I mean, people think he is, but he’s just, well…Vulcan. Reserved and stuff. I actually think he’s really kind and generous and really sweet, I guess.” Jim shrugged, his face growing hot as he tried to reign in his blabbering. Now, he was saying way too much. _Way to overcompensate, Jim,_ he thought.

“It is clear that you have strong feelings for my son. They may serve him well, Captain. I am gratified.” Sarek spared him a glance and Jim’s face must have been bright red. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it.

After a few more minutes outside, Sarek led them into a starkly white building with fabricated walls and the spicy smell of incense. The Ambassador nodded to an attendant as he passed and led them back into the recesses of the facility.

“Healer T’Nall, do you have a moment?”

A wizened old Vulcan woman in a pale blue robe turned and stepped towards them. “Certainly, Minister. How can I help you?” 

“Healer, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. He is assisting us with the Vulcan Defense Network.” Sarek motioned to Jim.

“Greetings, Captain,” the woman said, nodding.

“Ma’am,” Jim responded in kind, staring at the multitude of wrinkles lining her face.

“I would like to inquire after Spock. Has he seen a healer today?”

“No, Minister. Despite my inquiries, Spock has neglected to visit a healer since arriving on Uzh T’Khasi. Is something amiss?”

“Unclear. This morning, I revived him from a healing trance due to a headache. It was my understanding he was healed and would attend to his appointments today. That is not the case.”

“Ah, I see. Headaches are a common recurring side-effect of Va’Pak, as you know, Minister. All the more reason that Spock should have been assessed by a healer.”

“Indeed. Thank you for your time, Healer. If Spock arrives, please inform me.” 

“I shall.” The healer walked away, seeming to glide as her feet were hidden by an extra-full robe.

“So, nothing here…where to next?” Jim asked, fascinated to have witnessed something he was sure few outsiders ever saw. 

“I have one more source for information. Let us proceed.”

With a flash of insight, Jim knew exactly who.

~*~

Jim saw the old Vulcan sitting outside his small home, his face turned up to the sun as Jim and Sarek approached. He shifted in his chair at the sound of their footsteps and then stood slowly on his old legs.

“Minister, Jim. How pleasant to see you.” Spock moved towards them. “I trust this is not, however, a pleasant matter.” The lines of his face deepened with concern.

“Indeed not,” Sarek began. “It has come to my attention that all is not as it should be with Spock.

“Yes, I share that impression. Jim, you are in agreement?”

“You know it,” Jim said, feeling like finally he was going to get some answers. “Do you know where he is?”

“Negative. Sarek, what are your impressions of Spock through the family bond?” Selek asked, and Jim suddenly couldn’t stop obsessing about how this man was also Sarek’s son. His only son. Like twice over. Sort of. Jim looked back and forth between the two and tried to get his head around it.

“I sense he is greatly distressed and attempting to manage it. His controls have faltered,” Sarek said.

“I see. And he has refused to see a healer?” Selek asked.

“How did you know that?” Jim asked, and then twitched. “Oh, right, of course…” _They are the same person, dude._

“Indeed, Jim. In my younger days, I was convinced that I should control my emotions on my own and did not seek healing until I sought the kolinahr. It was only then that I realized the value.”

“Kolinahr? Is that the purging of all emotions thing?” At Selek’s nod, Jim continued, “I’ve heard of that. Stosh on the transport told me about it. He said it would be a shame for Spock to study the kolinahr because of his human insights.”

“Interesting.” Sarek and Selek spoke at the same time and Jim blinked before laughing. 

“You guys are freaking me out a little here,” he admitted and then sobered. This was not time.

“It is indeed a unique situation, Jim. You will find it becomes easier with time.” Selek’s expression was filled with kindness and Jim felt warmth suffusing him. 

“It is not logical to avoid the healer,” Sarek interjected.

“No, it is not, but it is human and Spock is half-human. A fact about himself he likely disavows when possible. It took many decades for me to accept and embrace my human emotions. It was Jim’s counterpart who helped me see the beauty of the world through human eyes. It is my hope that my young counterpart will find the same joy.” Selek offered a small, wise smile and Jim smiled in return. He really liked this Vulcan. 

“I desire for my son to find peace, however that may arise, Selek,” Sarek said, somewhat sternly for Jim’s tastes, and he felt a flare of anger.

Jim tapped his foot. “Okay, so he’s in trouble. What do we do?”

Selek tapped his lips thoughtfully. “May I suggest that we share what we know through a brief meld? I have found that expressing human emotions is often easier in a meld and it might offer more than we can explain verbally.”

“Hey, I don’t know. That last meld was a doozy,” Jim said, taking an involuntary step back.

“Yes, Jim, I apologize for my actions on Delta Vega. My mind was impaired by grief. I trust that you have recovered?”

“Yeah, sure. Just, do I really need to do it?” Jim was not sure he wanted them poking around in his head. Especially Sarek.

Sarek interceded. “It might be most valuable for us to meld, Selek. We can assess Jim’s inclusion at the termination of our joining.” Sarek stepped forward and placed his hand near Selek’s meld points.

“Proceed,” Selek said and Sarek pressed his fingers into the old Vulcan’s skin. 

“My mind to your mind,” Sarek intoned. 

Jim watched, fascinated, as the two Vulcans stood statue-still and blinked when they stepped apart suddenly.

“I see, Sarek. It is indeed more grave than I had anticipated. When does the next kolinahr class begin?” Selek asked.

“Two months,” Sarek answered, smoothing his dark gray robe. Jim sensed concern emanating from both Vulcans.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked. “What did you see?” He got nearly between them, glancing back and forth.

“Spock has a strong desire to purge his human emotions and appears to be unusually disorganized in his thought processes.”

“You go that from the meld?” Jim wondered aloud at Selek’s statement.

“I could sens the remnants of Sarek’s familial bond with Spock and given my unique position, can interpret his intentions with 97.43 percent accuracy.”

“Right… so what does that mean?” Jim asked.

“I fear that urgency will cause Spock to do something rash. I consider my own decision to seek kolinahr somewhat rash, but my mind was not as chaotic as the young Spock’s appears to be.”

“What kind of something? What’s he going to do?” Jim glanced at Sarek, who was concentrating on Selek’s face.

“I agree, Selek,” Sarek stated, his mouth pinched as sternly as Jim had ever seen it. Whatever it was, it must be bad.

“What is it? What’s he going to do?” Jim felt his stomach drop. 

Selek frowned deeply. “The _sakashovau_ , Jim. A dangerous and prohibited mind cleansing that some of our _orishansu_ have used to cope with broken bonds due to Va’Pak.”

Jim’s nerves jangled under his uniform. “Could it kill him? Will he be okay?” 

“It will render him unable to bond, Jim. From my perspective, a fate worse than death.”

“Fuck…” Jim said, mostly to himself, then wiped his mouth as the two Vulcans glanced at him. “What are we going to do?”

“We must find him. And quickly.” Sarek said, turning abruptly from the two of them.

“Jim, go with Sarek. I am afraid that these old bones will slow you down. Go to him, Jim. Go to Spock and tell him how you feel.” Selek encouraged Jim with a wave of his hand.

Jim stood dumbly. “What do you mean?”

Selek’s face softened into an affectionate smile. “Tell him that you love him.”


	9. Follow the Light

With only a single lamp for light, Vashek’s office provided a calming atmosphere that allowed Spock to relax and begin to prepare himself for the procedure. The middle-aged Vulcan, only a few decades his senior, had been recommended by a Vulcan male who resided in Spock’s building. Rih-Kal had successfully undergone the _sakashovau_ and found its effects to be positive. He explained to Spock, however, that the procedure was quite painful.

Given Rih-Kal’s experiences and Vashek’s confirmation, Spock began to ready his body for the procedure by entering into a state of partial consciousness, allowing his mind to observe his body, yet remain disconnected. 

With slow even breaths, he focused on letting his awareness of his body fall away, focusing on a pinpoint of light in his mind. He began with his lower extremities, allowing each to dissolve from consciousness, then proceeding to the rest of his corporeal form, until it was only the light that consumed his mind. His hearing, he left unaffected, as advised by Vashek. 

“We shall begin momentarily, Spock, but first I must perform a meld to assess your brain structures more thoroughly.” Spock vaguely felt a presence in his mind, but sensed it only as a shadow dimming the light. He did not feel alarmed, simply observed the shadow and assigned no meaning.

When the light brightened again, Veshek spoke once more, “Spock, I detect the presence of a bond in your mind. It is faint and thin, but I must ask you to consider further if you wish to continue. The procedure will destroy the bond and you will not be able to bond again. I will give you a few moments to make your final decision. If you change your mind, you may emerge from your trance. If not, I will proceed in ten minutes.”

Spock heard Veshek’s words through a thick fog, yet understood their meaning. Deep inside him, somewhere he cared not to look, he felt pain at the loss of his bond with Jim. The days and weeks and months of companionship had forged a connection he had hoped to grow one day. But then Jim had died and it had been ripped from him, like his mother and his planet until he was simply no longer able to cope. He would not be reduced to a chaotic ball of emotion when he had struggled so hard to become Vulcan. The kolinahr could not be enough, could leave him vulnerable to bonding, however remote the possibility. No, he thought as his white light flamed a bright red. He wanted it burned out of him, seared off forever so he could finally find his peace. 

_No, Jim,_ Spock thought painfully one last time. _We are not meant to be._

And with that, Spock saw the light fade back to cool white and waited patiently as his mental clock ticked away the ten minutes. When the moment arrived, Spock was ready.

~*~

Spock sensed turmoil in the form of another darker shadow passing over his white light. The bright beacon that had carried him along began to dim, growing fainter and fainter as his bodily sensations returned. His mind felt ordered, although somewhat more distant than he recalled. His hearing, too, he realized had been silenced at some point during the procedure. Unexpected, as Veshek had indicated it would not happen.

Faintly, so much so that he could not distinguish it from a dream, Spock heard arguing. As he began to feel the beating of his heart and the slow rise and fall of his lungs, the sound of it became louder.

“You will be censured for this. We have yet to establish a penal colony on Uzh T’Khasi, but you can be certain it will happen.” Sarek’s voice was sharp and suddenly loud as Spock’s entire body came crackling back into focus. His eyes slammed open and he scanned the room, frightfully aware of a terrible pain spreading across his mind. 

“ _Kroykah! Kroykah!"_ , Spock cried, holding his head between his hands. His mind was on fire and his body trembled, reacting to the searing intensity until he was quaking and moaning in pain. In his head, he scrambled to wall off the pain, but it consumed his entire mind, blotting out all sense and reason, replacing it with an inferno of blistering agony. 

The pain seized him until he was certain he would die, the procedure gone wrong. But moments later, the cool press of fingertips on his face, a faint whisper against his skin, and then blissfully, nothing.

~*~

The warm spicy smell of incense reached Spock before any other sense awakened, lulling him into a feeling of calm before his hearing and vision returned. He blinked his eyes as he came fully awake and noted that he was in his father’s suite, in the second bedroom. 

His thoughts were faint, nothing he could grasp onto, just vague memories of pain and panic. Now, though, he felt nothing akin to that. 

Before he moved or called out, he took inventory of his body, cataloging every major system and finding them satisfactorily functioning. His mind, however, felt thick, as if it were packed with wool. He had never experienced anything like it before. He attempted to clear a path into greater awareness, but the dense barrier prevented him from finding clarity. 

He remembered he had attempted the _sakashovau_ and something had gone wrong. His father’s voice was faint in his mind, but he recalled he had come for him. Others might have been present, as well, but he could not recall.

Gingerly, Spock raised himself up from the firm pillow beneath his head. A dry rasp tickled his throat and he coughed. Water was waiting for him at the bedside table and he drank it down, cooling the tickle, but he could now sense some tenderness in his throat.

“Spock, you are awake,” his father said, striding into the room in a casual brown robe. 

“Yes, father. Please provide me with the details of how I arrived in your suite.”

“I will provide the details, Spock. But first, may I inquire as to your bodily functioning?” Sarek crossed the room and sat in the straight-backed chair at the desk beside the bed.

“I am functional. My mind, however, appears to be minimally functioning. Can you explain?” Spock raised a hand, quite unconsciously, and touched his forehead.

“You have suffered damage to your bonding and memory centers, both from longstanding trauma, recent trauma, and the _sakashovau_ procedure. Healer T’Vall has injected you with an _emulvac_ to soothe the damaged parts of your mind. It is temporary until you are ready to proceed with a formal healing process.” Sarek regarded Spock evenly, but with no judgment he could sense.

“I see. And Veshek? I have a memory of your voice and the word ‘censure’.”

Sarek’s lips tightened, the first sign of sternness Spock had seen. “Veshek is under arrest. He preys on the vulnerable for his own sense of power and satisfaction. You were ill and instead of helping you seek proper healing, he chose instead to take advantage. His actions were not in your best interest.”

“I see, father. If you will permit me, I must gather my own thoughts about Veshek’s role in my decision. At the moment, I am incapable of higher levels of logic. My brain is…fuzzy, as a human might say.” Spock regarded his father flatly, feeling nothing more than curiosity.

Sarek’s expression softened. “Of course, Spock. I shall leave you to your thoughts. Healer T’Vall wished to see you upon waking. I will contact her now.” Sarek stood, smoothing his robes and Spock tracked his movement past the foot of the bed, only to see him pause at the door. He half-turned, just catching Spock’s eyes.

“I am gratified that you are whole, _sa-fu_. I find myself unable to comprehend my state of mind if I were to lose you, too.” 

Before he could respond, Sarek walked away, leaving Spock open-mouthed and staring after him. Not since the destruction of Vulcan had he heard his father speak so…emotionally. Taking a breath, he calmed his rapidly beating heart and eased himself out of bed.

~*~

The healer’s fingers were cool on Spock’s face, their light pressure belying the power of T’Vall’s skills. 

“My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts.” T’Vall appeared in Spock’s mind as a gentle presence, sifting through his thoughts with quickness and sensitivity. She worked silently, sorting through his chaotic mindscape as one would sort a stack of errant papers. Her focus was clear and sharp and it gave him relief. 

Slowly, as she worked, he began to feel the cloud of protection begin to fade, slowly at first, then more quickly, revealing a shocking burst of heat and pain. Spock drew a sharp breath and felt the healer’s presence strengthen, creating a temporary barrier against the memories and sensations that lay in that part of his brain. 

He likened her to an artist, choosing the right colors and textures to create a visual landscape in his mind. Deftly, she revealed other parts of his mind that he had suppressed. Instead of the pain, however, he saw his mother’s face, eyes crinkling with laughter at his insistence she refrain from hugging him on his eleventh birthday. That memory, once sharp with shame, filled him with longing for her smile. The memory tumbled forth with so many others, memories that had been hidden behind the pain of her death. 

Quietly, inside his mind, the healer spoke, _Love and loss are opposite sides of the same coin. We may not have one without the other._

Like a flower blooming with new buds, he remembered both the pain and the loss, the joy of her life and, her terrified face as she died. Spock endured the grief and did not run. His love for her, supported by the healer, held him fast, honoring her memory with his effort. He had loved her.

Slowly, the healer retreated, leaving the memories as a slightly turbulent storm that did not overwhelm him. As her presence lessened, he sensed other parts of his mind still shielded, blocked intentionally as he struggled to process the few memories she had revealed.

With a final wisp of light, the healer broke the connection and let her hand fall away. When Spock opened his eyes, she was there, her own gaze warm with feeling. He felt dampness on his cheeks. 

“I apologize for my emotional lapse, healer,” Spock said immediately.

“Nonsense,” T’Vall said. “Your trauma deserves its due, Spock. Apologies are unnecessary.” 

“Yes, healer,” Spock answered, grateful for her kindness but surprised nonetheless. His experience with the healers had never been so kind before.

“Much has changed, Spock,” T’Vall said, as if reading his mind despite the broken meld. 

Spock blinked in response.

“None can claim to be unaffected by Va’Pak. Emotions run high among our people now and it will take perhaps a generation to adhere to Surak’s teachings once again. For you, as for me, as for the other _orishansu_ , we shall never fully heal. _Kaiidth._

_Kaiidth,_ ” Spock said in return, sobered further by the enormity of her words. 

With a flick of her robes, T’Vall retreated and left his quarters. Outside the door, he heard his father’s voice in conversation with her, but could not make out the words.

He let them talk and drew a breath, settling himself into a light meditation and began slowly, like one who has begun to crawl after a long paralysis, to find his way among the memories of his mother. If he felt wetness on his cheeks, he paid it no mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _kroykah:_ stop immediately  
>  _sa-fu:_ son  
>  _emulvac:_ a balm or salve  
>  _kaiidth:_ what is, is


	10. Friends Indeed

“So, when you gettin’ back from New Vulcan?” Bones asked, his voice sounding tinny over the comm. “Joanna’s been asking about you.”

“Not sure. Got roped into meeting about the Vulcan Defense Project. I mean, it's all good — I think they’re on the right track.” Jim let his statement hang, a little unwilling to say more, but knowing that wasn’t really why he’d called. Bones didn’t give a shit about defense networks. 

“Yeah, so, how long’s that gonna take? Joanna and I are thinking of going out to my dad’s old cabin on the lake. You should come.”

“That sounds awesome. I’d love to do that… I don’t know, though…Things are kind of weird here.” Jim brushed a hand through his hair and lay down on the bed in his small quarters.

“Of course they’re weird. You’re on Vulcan.” 

“Shut up, man. I mean weird with Spock.”

“Well, there’s a surprise,” Bones remarked dryly.

“He’s sick, Bones, like really sick. Sarek told me he has developed a kind of Vulcan PTSD because of losing his mom and Vulcan and stuff.”

“Really?" Bones said, his voice sounding doubtful and curious at the same time. 

“And I guess he didn’t tell anyone and it’s been getting worse over the past couple of weeks.”

“Huh. Well, he never mentioned it to me. Seemed fine after Vulcan, well as fine as you can be. And even the —”

“But how would we even know?" Jim asked sharply. "He could have been suffering this whole time and I never picked up on it.” 

“Jim, come on, man, what the hell do you expect? He’s _Vulcan_! Who the hell knows what goes on in those logical heads of theirs.” 

“Yeah, but still… I thought we were friends. How could I have missed that?” Jim tapped his foot hard against the wall. Friends were supposed to help each other and he hadn’t done shit. 

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Spock’s an adult and I scanned him. Hell, so did the Vulcans. He was fine, Jim.”

“Well, obviously not. He did this thing, tried to fry his brain, Bones. It nearly fucking killed him.” Jim’s voice caught with emotion and rubbed at his eyes.

“Fucking hell, what do you mean, fry his brain? Did he hurt himself?” Bones’ voice was suddenly very loud in his ear.

Jim took a deep breath and willed the images of Spock’s convulsing body out of his mind. “I don’t think he was trying to… Selek said he was trying not to feel anything anymore, so he saw some fucking creepo Vulcan dude who tried to zap his brain.”

“Damnit, Jim. What the hell was he thinking?” 

“I don’t know…It sounds like he was pretty messed up. I have no idea what to even say to him.” Jim shrugged.

“Just be his friend.”

“I can’t.”

“What are you talking about? Just go in there and be…you.”

“I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“Jim, what’s going on? You’re being cagey and sounding like a twelve-year-old.” 

“He didn’t want me to be here. When I got here, he was cold as ice. Shut me down — slammed a door in my face. I have no right to go and see him. What if the whole thing was my fault? I triggered him or something?” Jim squirmed on the bed, pulling his knees up and rolling onto his side with the comm stuck between his ear and the pillow.

“Bullshit. If Spock had the Vulcan version of PTSD, who the hell knows why he reacted that way. Maybe you reminded him of the whole thing. Maybe you _were_ a trigger. How the hell should I know. But still…you’re about the only friend that man has ever had. Now, don’t be a child. Go and see him.”

“Fuck off, Bones. You’re an asshole.”

“Well, fuck you, too, _Captain,_ ” Bones retorted with a long drawl on his rank.

There was a moment where neither of them spoke and Jim tried to get his head together. “Maybe I should talk to Sarek. Make sure it’s okay. I don’t want to mess up his treatment.”

“Okay, fine. But do it, all right? I can’t stand you when you’re mopey.”

Jim screwed up his face in frustration, but didn’t bite back. Bones was a jerk sometimes, but he was probably also right.

He took a quick breath and sat up. “Tell Joanna I miss her and I’ll try to get down to Georgia as soon as I can.”

“All right. Good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks. See ya,” Jim clicked the comm off and tossed it on the bed. He tapped his forehead a few times with his finger and stretched out the kinks in his neck. He could do this. He’d faced a fucking crazy Nero and a crazy Khan. Fuck it, he’d even died doing it. He could face Sarek and Spock. 

Of course he could.

~*~

Jim let out a sigh of relief when Sarek’s assistant told him the Minister was in a meeting. 

“Okay. Can you tell him I was here? I’m going to head over to Selek’s for a while, then back to my quarters for the night, I guess.”

T'Naya nodded and Jim smiled awkwardly before turning on his heel and leaving. He retraced his steps carefully, grateful that Sarek’s office wasn’t far from the meeting hall where they’d had the High Council gathering. He could definitely find his way out of there. 

Selek’s house was also easy to find. The squat home was nestled between two larger structures, each housing several greenhouses growing Vulcan fruits and vegetables from seeds recovered throughout the galaxy. 

The sun had just dipped behind the eastern greenhouse when Jim approached Selek’s door and knocked. He was startled when the door opened almost immediately.

“Jim, what a pleasure to see you here,” Selek said, his eyes warm and welcoming.

“Hey, hi. How are you? Hope you don’t mind that I came over. Not sure how to comm you or anything first.” Jim wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

“You are always welcome, Jim. Come in.” Spock stepped back and closed the door after Jim entered. 

The room was blessedly cooler and Jim scanned the small space to see warm colors and sparse furnishings. “Nice place,” he said with a smile. Something about it felt right.

“Please sit. Can I offer you a refreshment?”

“Yeah. Something to drink. It’s hot as hell out there still. I keep thinking it’s going to cool down, but it really doesn’t.” Jim swiped at a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek.

“You are performing admirably in the heat. Most humans would not do so well,” Spock said from behind Jim.

“I’m stubborn, I guess,” he quipped.

Spock appeared with a glass of water and a gleam in his eye. “Of that, I am assured. Stubbornness is a trait you share with your counterpart.”

“Uh, yeah…” Jim said, drinking to cover his horror. There was no way he was ever going to be okay talking about his — himself. Whatever.

“So, Jim. What brings you here? Spock, I presume.” Selek held onto the arm of the chair across from Jim and lowered himself slowly into it.

“Yeah. How’s he doing? I stopped by to ask Sarek, but he was in a meeting.” Jim drank more water and watched the old Vulcan arrange his robes.

“He is healing, but I am afraid his mind continues to be disordered.” Spock’s placid expression darkened.

“What do you mean? I though the healers could help him.” 

“Yes, they can and they have. But he has lived for a long time without healing. That creates its own problems.”

“You mean since Va’Pak?” Two years was a long time to suffer without anyone noticing.

“Yes…but beyond that, Jim. For many years, I was unwilling to acknowledge my human side, as I have told you, and I believe that Spock has done the same. When I was younger, I ignored my vital emotional needs and became isolated. It was Jim, my Jim, who befriended me. He changed my life and showed me the joy I could experience. For that, I will be forever grateful.”

“Yeah, but Spock and you — you’re not the same. And I’m not that Jim. He doesn’t want to feel anything and I’m sure as hell not going to bust in there and force him to.” Jim drank down the rest of his water and leaned forward in his seat, leg bouncing.

“I am not suggesting force. I am merely stating that you are his friend and he needs friends in his life.” Selek’s eyes held a note of pressure and Jim felt himself squirming. He could never be what Selek wanted him to be. _They_ could never be that — whatever it was the other ones’d had together.

Jim stood suddenly. “Look, I just wanted to see how he was. I’m glad he’s getting better. I have a couple more days of meetings and then I’m going to Georgia to see Bones. I need some time away from all of this.” Jim strode across the room and put his glass in the small sink. He could feel Selek’s concern from across the room but didn’t turn.

“He needs you, Jim.”

With a slap on the counter, Jim spun around. “No, he doesn’t. He made that really fucking clear. I’m not going to fuck up his life just because I want something. I should have stayed on Earth. I screwed everything up by coming here.” Jim started to rush towards the door. “Just tell him I’m sorry, would you?” 

“Jim!” Selek called out, but Jim’s feet hit the dirt before the old Vulcan could make it to the door. It was just too fucking much.

~*~

By the time Jim arrived back at his quarters, he was soaked with sweat and felt guilty as hell for storming out on Selek. He was so twisted up by this whole situation and everyone was telling him what to do and what to say and no one had given a good goddamn about what Spock needed.

Jim’s thoughts were racing as he stripped off his uniform and stepped into the shower. He barely noticed the sonics as they cleaned his body, just obsessed over and over on Selek’s words, _he needs you_. It didn’t make sense. How could someone need someone and then just shut them out? Spock had left him, slammed the door in his face, shut him out for years about his emotional problems. How the hell was that needing someone? 

Jim scrubbed at his skin with the towel even though there was no water to soak up. It was a habit, and right now, the burn felt pretty damn good. 

Exhausted, Jim threw on some boxers and flopped onto the bed. Two, maybe three days, and he’d be out of here. T’Pouur had arranged meetings for the next week, but Jim would condense them if he could. Hell, the admiralty could send someone else next time. He was owed some shore leave and he was going to take it — in Georgia. He deserved it.

His mind went round and round for another few minutes and he sprang off the bed to do pushups on the floor. He had nowhere to go, no bars to get kickass drunk at, and he was absolutely certain that if he stepped outside at night, he’d get hopelessly lost. 

Thirty pushups later and twice as many sit-ups had Jim breathing hard, his racing thoughts finally starting to ease. He’d come to New Vulcan for answers and he’d gotten them. In the process, he’d managed to nearly kill his former First Officer, but hey, who’s counting. If Spock wanted to continue the friendship, he knew where to find him. He had heard whispers that the Enterprise was going out for five years and in that amount of time, he was sure he’d be over this whole damn thing. Spock would move on and _procreate_ , as Stosh had mentioned. They’d both get on with their lives. 

Yeah, that’d be fucking perfect. 

Once more, Jim downed a tall glass of water and flopped back onto his bed. He was tired enough to sleep, although he was sure it was obscenely early to do it. Whatever. He had no booze, no men to hit on, and the last thing he felt like was wanking off. That would be disastrous since his favorite wank material currently hated him. Fuck.

Jim groaned and rolled onto his stomach, kicking the end of the bed like a five-year-old. He felt trapped and he hated it. 

With a long, deep breath, Jim tried to get hold of himself. He couldn’t stay outraged or enraged or whatever the fuck he was for another three days. The Vulcans would flip. No, he could be cool. He was Captain James T. Kirk, right? Sure he was.

He took several more breaths, in through his mouth, out through his nose, just like Bones had taught him. Within a few breaths, his heart rate had eased and his head had stopped its maddening spinning. 

Flipping onto his back again, Jim stared at the gray ceiling, keeping his thoughts calm and counting his breaths. His body was getting relaxed and he wondered if he was meditating. He’d asked Spock about it a couple of times, even read up on it and watched a vid so he’d have some idea what the hell it was. Up until now, he hadn’t had much luck, but he _was_ on a planet full of Vulcans, so it made sense. Maybe it was in the food.

After some time, Jim managed to lighten his mood and let go of the sharpest parts of the anger he’d been holding. It hadn’t just been about Selek’s words, he realized as he lay there. It was anger at Spock, too. Anger that he’d kept his pain from them, that he’d let himself suffer when he or Bones or Uhura could have helped. 

It was frustrating as hell to serve with a Vulcan, even one as awesome as Spock. Even in the times that Jim didn’t feel like a bumbling idiot on the bridge, he always suspected that Spock didn’t think he deserved to be there. And maybe sometimes he didn’t. He’d nearly gotten them all killed by Marcus, and, fuck, he’d had to die to save the ship, but he had saved it. He’d prevented Khan from destroying all of San Francisco with that stupid, hulked out ship, too. And then Spock had saved him. All should have been right in the world.

But it wasn’t and Jim still couldn’t put his finger on why. How could PTSD make Spock behave like he did? Why would it make him leave Jim and Starfleet after all that hard work? It didn’t make sense. 

As the thoughts started to come, Jim tensed again, mind beginning to churn with agitation once more, and he took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to be able to figure it out and he needed to let it go. Spock was okay now, out of the woods, and that would have to be enough. 

Right?


	11. Healing Begins

Spock had completed his morning routine without incident and sat cross-legged on his mat in a light meditation. The past several days had yielded positive results with T’Vall and he was feeling stronger than he had in many weeks. Her smooth touch and helpful insights had allowed him to begin to process the death of his planet and that of his mother. His grief was indeed painful, but he did not run from it. 

Other matters, however, T’Vall discussed with more caution, still avoiding the parts of his mind that had caused him so much pain on the first day. 

_“It is your bonding center, Spock. It is severely damaged and in need of repair,” T’Vall had told him._

_“I understand, healer,” Spock had said, wanting to heal, yet feeling quite afraid of what lay behind the shield._

_“You are withholding information from me, Spock. It is not logical,” T’Vall had stated, her mouth drawn flat._

_“It is not intentional,” Spock had said, unable to offer an explanation._

Now, meditating alone, he wondered if somehow it was. He’d felt great trepidation and pain when T’Vall had tried to heal that part of his mind during their first session. She had later told him that she would work with him for as long as it took, but he had grown concerned that she was becoming impatient. 

Since their first discussion, Spock had noticed the increased emotionality of those around him. All along, Spock had believed it was only him feeling raw and wounded, when in reality, all Vulcans were suffering on some indelible level. It gave him hope that he, too, would be able to overcome his own trauma. 

Spock continued the light meditation and sifted through more memories and thoughts of Va’Pak and his mother. Memories of his father, once so painful, were also ordered and he was able to consider them in a new light — one where his father loved him. It was a profound and important revelation that gave him courage. While he did not feel the family bond due to the damage to his bonding centers, he knew it existed and he recalled how it had affected him as a child. For now, it was enough. 

After twenty minutes, Spock rose from the mat and rolled it to place it in the corner. He neatened his room and prepared to leave for lunch. A soft knocking caught his attention.

He opened the door and was surprised to see his counterpart dressed in dark blue robes.

“Selek. What brings you here today?” Spock asked, not moving to invite him inside.

“I would like to speak to you about Jim.”

“Yes. I am surprised it has taken several days for you to come to me. My interactions with Captain Kirk have been abrupt.” 

“More than abrupt, Spock. He informed me you have been quite cold to him and would not speak to him when he arrived on planet.”

“I acknowledged Captain Kirk’s presence during the High Council. I owe him nothing more.” Spock began to feel a pressure in his head.

“I see. May I come in?” Selek asked, peering around Spock and into the room.

“Spock,” his father said, appearing behind Selek. “Your animosity towards our guest is illogical.”

“Perhaps, father. But I find no logical reason to meet with my counterpart. His path and my path are not the same and he has little to offer me.” Spock spoke smoothly, wondering if he believed what he had just said.

“I disagree, Spock. Come, both of you, let us have lunch together.” Sarek’s words sounded like a request, but Spock knew otherwise and he waited for Selek to walk towards the dining area before following. 

The lunch fare was much the same as it had been nearly a week ago when Spock had dined with his father. The topic of that conversation, Spock’s possible fertility, seemed a thousand years prior. His life had changed significantly since then.

He broke off a piece of bread and watched as Sarek and Selek served themselves fruit and cheese. He wondered at his father’s motives, but let himself be guided. He could admit that his decision-making of late had been faulty.

“Spock, T’Vall has informed me that your bonding centers are more damaged than she had assessed at the beginning of your healing.”

“Yes, father. She has indicated the same to me.” Spock spread a soft cheese onto his bread and took a bite.

“T’Vall and I have enlisted Selek’s wisdom and unique position as your counterpart to offer a solution.”

“Explain, father,” Spock said, his mouth too dry to chew without choking. He reached for his water glass.

“T’Vall has suggested that Selek meld with you to ascertain the extent of the changes in your mind and to share the findings with her so that she may proceed with all available information. I have agreed to this course of action.”

“I see,” Spock said, swallowing the thick knot of bread. “And Selek, you have agreed?”

“Yes, Spock. It is a logical solution given the impasse.”

“And is my consent required?” Spock asked, bitterness not quite repressed.

“It is desired, Spock, but not required,” his father answered.

“I see,” Spock said, nodding slowly. “Given my poor mind health, I have no choice but to acquiesce. Shall we proceed after lunch?”

“That would be wise, Spock. I am grateful for your cooperation.” Sarek stared at his son, face sincere.

“Yes… _sa-mekh_ ,” Spock ventured, using the Vulcan term for father instead of Standard or his name, something he had not done since he was ten years old. Sarek’s expression softened slightly.

“Very well, Spock. I shall contact T’Vall after lunch and arrange it.” 

Spock simply nodded and glanced at Selek under his lashes. The headache had flared to life again, clearly, he surmised, connected to the bonding center of his mind. As he observed his father and counterpart, he found himself hoping, illogically and in an all too-human manner, that they knew what in the hell they were doing.

~*~

T’Vall arrived after lunch wearing subdued green robes, her gray and black hair fashioned in a flat plait down her back. She was serious, as always, but Spock detected encouragement as she arranged herself on one of the three chairs in the center of Sarek’s apartments.

“You have consented to the meld, Spock?” T’Vall confirmed, eyes catching his.

“Yes. You may proceed, Selek,” he said, feeling the pain in his mind growing sharper, hotter as he breathed through it. He must trust his father and T’Vall. Oddly, despite Selek’s status as his identical genetic counterpart, he felt a sense of unease.

“You must relax, Spock. Your expression reveals much. I have seen inside Selek’s mind and there is nothing to fear.” She did not say that fear was illogical, but Spock’s mind provided the words nonetheless. He was, it seemed, unable to repress the fear and so he did not try.

“Please begin,” he requested, knowing it would be harder the longer he waited. 

“My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts,” Selek said, letting his old eyes drift closed as his fingers touched Spock’s face.

The joining was instantaneous and complete, with no sense of wonder or curiosity — it simply felt like an extension of his own mind. Spock observed Selek’s movements, able to distinguish his presence from his own only through the mature order of his thoughts and feelings. Spock’s own mind appeared disordered and chaotic, flaring with electricity and energy where the old Vulcan’s was mild, calm, and smooth. But there was warmth and security there, too. 

As Selek worked towards the bonding centers, Spock’s head began to ache and burn, gently at first and then with more intensity. He was vaguely aware of a trembling that shook his body.

Selek spoke to him through their bond, _”I shall not let you be harmed, Spock. Turn your mind toward the shield and work with me to take it down. Do not fear what lies beyond.”_

Spock’s mind supplied him with more pain and fear, but he endeavored to follow his counterpart’s instructions…his instructions. He could not fathom why he fought so hard.

In a matter of moments, the shield began to dissolve and Spock felt a wave of intense heat, sharp with terror and then it was gone, revealing a dark space with a distant, glowing ember. 

_”This is what remains of your bonding center. The_ sakashovau _nearly destroyed it, but the bonds were strong and resistant. The heat and pain was your mind’s protection against the intrusion.”_

Spock let Selek guide them into the dark space, bereft of feeling and light, save the ember which grew as they approached. As Spock drew nearer, he saw it was, in fact, two separate embers, one stronger than the other. He felt a spike of fear and did not know why.

_”You must trust me. I know this place. There is nothing to fear.”_

Selek’s words made Spock feel like a child, and he guessed that he was very much infantile in his reactions. His logic and rationality had long ago fled, leaving him raw and vulnerable.

With a deep breath, Spock focused on Selek’s thoughts and feelings, sensing warmth and love. 

_”The smaller ember is your family bond, Spock. It has suffered as you have grieved. Think of your family,_ sa-mekh _and ___ko-mekh _. Their love is inside you. Remember and allow the bond to grow._ ”

Spock did as he was told, opening another part of himself to find more memories that just those he had been processing over the last few days. His mother's face was luminescent in them, glowing with the love she had showered upon him as a child. Alongside her, his father, his expression unexpectedly warm and loving as they embraced. It was the memory of a child preoccupied with his own experiences, unable to fathom what it meant that he loved her and she loved him. 

Once open, the floodgates of memory began to pour into the dark space of the bond, filling it with images and sensations, both sharp and sweet. The ember grew stronger, flaring along its length and brightening until it glowed with a strong yellow light. Spock allowed himself to bask in the warmth of it, suffusing his mind with its gentle connection. How he had missed it. 

_”Very good, Spock. It is time to retreat,”_ Selek whispered in his mind, mentally tugging his younger counterpart. 

Spock formed a question, _“But what about the other bond?”_

_“That is for another day and another mind,_ pi-maat _.”_

As he had grown to trust the presence of his elder self, he followed his lead, retreating slowly, leaving his mind connected to the family bond. He would not let it go this time. 

Spock emerged from the bond to find the elder Vulcan sagging against the back of the chair. “Selek?” He asked, alarm flaring in his chest. 

Without opening his eyes, Selek spoke softly, “I am fine, young one. I am merely old and tire easily.” 

Spock glanced at T’Vall, who was also looking at Selek. “Do you have the wherewithal to meld again? To show me what is in Spock’s mind?” 

Selek opened his eyes, looking first at Spock, then at T’Vall. “That will not be necessary. The family bond has been restored, but requires reinforcement. Sarek?" 

“Of course,” his father said, stepping towards his young son to place his hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You have done well, _sa-fu_. It is best that both of you rest. There is more to be done, but not now.” 

Sarek nudged Spock to stand and moved his hand to support his son. When their skin touched, Spock felt confirmation of the bond, warmth and tenderness flowing freely between them. He felt a part of him had been reborn, and as his father eased him back onto his bed, Spock grasped his hand. Between them he felt his mother’s presence, faint but steady, as his father offered a glimpse of the bond they had shared. 

“Thank you, _sa-mekh_. I am grateful.” Spock’s words slurred, sleepiness pulling his eyelids down. 

“You are welcome, _sa-fu-kam,_ ” Sarek answered, stroking his cheek one time before departing. “Your mother would have been proud of you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _sa-mekh:_ father  
>  _ko-mekh:_ mother  
>  _sa-fu-kam:_ affectionate, parent speaking to child  
>  _pi-maat:_ family, kin


	12. Loose Ends

The colorful cranes to the east of Jim’s quarters were active once more as the light of dawn began to brighten the landscape outside his window. In just the week he’d been on New Vulcan, he’d seen progress. The Vulcans were a dedicated and no-nonsense race and he was not surprised at how quickly they worked. 

He crammed his clothes into his duffel and slid his comm into the back pocket of his jeans. He’d concluded his meetings with a marathon session, testing and poking holes in the preliminary plans for the sensor grid and relay systems that made up the bulk of the Vulcan Defense Project. It had been fun and sobering at the same time. He just wasn’t sure anything could have stopped Nero. He certainly hadn’t.

He glanced around the room and checked the bathroom for anything he’d left behind. With the room left bare, he went through the door and headed towards the central gardens where T’Pouur was waiting with a driver to take him to his shuttle. He had two hours to spare, but he couldn’t sleep and there was no sense hanging out in an empty room. 

The driver was precisely on time and swung wide around the edge of the gardens to skirt the heaviest construction. As they stopped at an intersection, Jim caught a glimpse of the greenhouses near Selek’s house and his stomach dropped. For a couple of days he’d been ignoring his guilt, focusing on doing his job with the network. Now, though, he couldn’t keep the feelings at bay. He’d been an ass and he needed to make it right.

“Hey, I have a stop to make. You know Selek? Old Vulcan, lives between the greenhouses…” Jim watched for confirmation from the driver and when he nodded, continued, “Can we stop there? I have to talk to him before I leave.”

“There is ample time, Captain. It will take approximately two minutes to reach his address.”

“Thanks,” Jim said, settling back into the deep seats and watching the scenery go by.

When they arrived, Jim opened the door and started to get out. He said to the driver, “I am not sure how long I’ll be…can you wait?”

“I am at your disposal, Captain,” the young Vulcan answered, cutting the engine and grabbing a PADD to occupy himself.

With a lump in his throat, Jim knocked on Selek’s door and waited for him to answer. His shame and embarrassment grew as the moments ticked by. He knocked again and the door opened.

“Hi, Selek. I, uh, hey look, I’m leaving and wanted to stop by to apologize for the way I acted the other day. I probably should have said it sooner…” Jim tapped his palms together and then finally met the Vulcan’s eyes. He was struck by their tiredness and he took a step forward. He saw that Selek was holding onto the door frame.

“Are you okay? You don’t look good,” he said, taking in Selek’s grayish skin. 

“Jim… I am grateful that you have come. I must admit that I was sleeping when you knocked. Come in.”

“Thanks. Why don’t you sit down. Can I help you?” Jim had the instinct that something was wrong but he didn’t want to press.

“I am well, Jim. Let’s sit and talk.” Selek closed the door and stepped slowly to the table.

When Jim was settled, Selek fixed him with an expression he couldn’t read. “You are leaving,” the old Vulcan said.

“Yeah. Shuttle leaves in a few hours. I feel pretty shitty about what I said to you. How I got mad. I just…I can’t be what he was, you know. I’m me and my life’s been different.”

“I understand, Jim. It was wrong of me to push you. You are different, of course, as your lives have diverged significantly. Even my presence here further separates the two of you. My Jim did not have the interference of an older version of me, trying to not-so-subtly push his own agenda.” Selek’s mouth twisted wryly.

“What do you mean?” Jim gave him a quizzical look.

Selek sighed heavily, expression growing even more weary. “I miss my Jim, my t’hy’la, to a depth I cannot describe in words. He was taken from me on an ordinary day with no warning, and became trapped. His katra, like so many billions of Vulcans, is gone forever. I merely wished for your Spock to find the joy I once knew. You are a special person, James T. Kirk, and if my interference caused you pain, I am regretful.” The old man’s face was the picture of sorrow, weighty lines etching sadness around his mouth and eyes. 

Jim spoke through a tight throat. “It’s okay, Selek. I mean, I might have done the same thing. I don’t know. In reality, this whole thing just fucks with my head and, I dunno, it makes me defensive. That Jim Kirk had everything — a father, a family…you. That’s not something I’ll ever have.” Jim stared at the floor but didn’t see it.

“It is true that you lost your father at a young age. That is most unfortunate. You have, however, fulfilled your destiny as a starship captain, and in a much more spectacular manner than my Jim Kirk. He worked his way up through the ranks of Starfleet until he got his captaincy.” Selek spoke with fondness and Jim felt his hard stance begin to ease. “You share his brilliance, but your tactics, well they are even more…unorthodox.”

Jim laughed at Selek’s words. “Yeah, well, some would stay stupid and dangerous, but…” He grinned at the elder Vulcan, feeling lighter as his guilt lessened. 

“Was he happy?” Jim blurted after a pause.

“Yes, Jim. He was satisfied with his life. He had his regrets, of course, as we all do, but yes, he was happy.” Selek’s lips turned up into a small smile and Jim could sense a tiny piece of the love he must have felt for his other self.

“I’m glad. I hope I’ll live long enough to find that, too.” Jim sensed a spark of hope about his potential, that maybe he would stop bumbling and finally get the hang of things on the Enterprise. If he was lucky, the admiralty would give him the five year mission and he’d find something like real, earned success, too.

“I am certain you will, Jim. I am certain you will.” The old Vulcan had faith in him. 

Jim held Selek’s eyes for a long moment and then wiped his hands on his pants. “I should go. I’m glad I came by. Wouldn’t’ve felt right leaving with apologizing.”

“Apologies are unnecessary, but I am gratified to see you once more.” Selek moved to stand, but Jim waved him off. With apparent relief, Selek remained seated as Jim backed away and moved towards the door.

“Thanks, Selek. Thanks for everything, you know… And, uh, take care of Spock for me, would ya?” Jim caught Selek’s eyes and then let them drop. He didn’t really want to go there again.

“He is in good hands, Jim. I am sorry that your journey here was not fruitful.”

Jim huffed. “Yeah, me, too. But hey, that’s life.” He shrugged as much to brush off the loss of Spock’s friendship as to make it seem like he didn’t care. He figured Selek would see through it, but he grinned and waved anyway. “Bye, Selek.”

Through the open door, he saw Selek giving him the _ta’al_ and Jim closed the door between them.

~*~

The car pulled away smoothly from Selek’s home, leaving the Vulcan seeming pleased yet sad. Jim couldn’t imagine spending his life with someone, only to lose them the way Selek had lost his Jim. Maybe it was better that Spock didn’t want him…that he’d be saved the heartache in the end. Two senior officers on dangerous missions didn’t exactly scream stability and security. No, it was better this way. It freed him up to focus on his job and his crew and he’d just have to find a way to do it without him. And find a replacement. Well, another First Officer. He had a feeling he'd never be able to replace Spock.

As the car sped along the outskirts of the city, Jim looked once again at the mountains looming over head and wished he’d had more time to really explore the planet. Sure it was hot and awful, but starkly beautiful, too. 

Unlike the week before, the airport had only a few small throngs passengers and vendors, and Jim grabbed food and found a seat at a table near the windows where he could watch the shuttles coming and going against the mountainous backdrop. 

The food he’d found resembled a sandwich but tasted more like cardboard. He ate it anyway, certain that food on the flight would be far worse.

“Captain?” Jim heard a deep voice behind him and turned with a mouthful. He began to cough as he tried to greet Sarek. He managed to swallow and breathe long enough to say hello and to wave him into the other seat at his table. 

Jim swiped tears from his eyes and gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry. Hi. Good to see you,” Jim said, remembering to act like a Starfleet Captain and not a love-starved kid chasing the man’s son.

“I am gratified that you are still on planet, Captain. I wish to speak to you about Spock.” Sarek folded his hands neatly on his lap. 

“Yeah. I kinda figured.” Jim frowned at the prospect. 

“First, I offer my gratitude for your efforts in rescuing my son from Veshek. He was close to losing all that we value outside of logic.” 

“Yeah. He was in rough shape. And you’re welcome. He was my First Officer — I couldn’t let him die.” Jim picked at the food on the plate in front of him, his appetite gone.

“Indeed, Captain,” Sarek said, pausing to stare at Jim for a long moment. He squirmed under the Vulcan’s stare and took another drink of water.

“So, um, what can I do for you, Ambassador? I left my reports with T’Pouur — or at least I signed off on the reports she made. She’s great, really. She’d be a natural fit at Starfleet.” Jim smiled playfully, knowing full well that no Vulcan would enlist now, not with the rebuilding efforts. 

"Perhaps," Sarek responded flatly. "I am not here, however, to discuss the defense network. I wish to entreat you to visit with Spock one last time before you return to Earth.”

Jim swallowed hard, expecting but not expecting Sarek to say those words. “I, uh, my shuttle leaves in forty minutes. I don’t have the time.” Jim couldn’t look Sarek in the face as he spoke his lie. 

“I will delay the shuttle, Captain. My son’s welfare is predominant in my mind.” 

“Uh, okay. So, why am I feeling like I’ve got no choice here?” Jim leaned towards Sarek with his elbows on the table. “You Vulcans sure do have a way of making orders seem like requests.”

Jim thought he saw Sarek’s lips quirk in amusement. “It is a request, Captain, and I will honor your refusal, if you so choose.”

Leaning back in his chair, he appraised Spock’s father and then shrugged. “I guess I don’t see the point. He’s doing better, right? He’s safe and Selek said he’s healing. So, I don’t know what I can do for him. We’re not exactly friends anymore.” Jim’s voice held more hurt than he meant to show. The whole thing really fucking stung.

“You are much more than that, Captain…Jim, if I may. While I understand the human need for subtlety, I must be direct. Spock suffered significant damage to his bonding centers, and with Selek’s help, his family bond has strengthened. There is, however, another bond that requires mending.”

“Yeah…” Jim rubbed at his face, not quite sure what it even meant to have a bond or how this involved him.

“It appears that Spock has developed a _t’telan_ , an initial bond…with you.” 

Jim blinked hard and sat back in his seat. “With me? How? When? I haven’t had more than a two word conversation with him since before Kahn. What are you talking about?”

“The healer and Selek have confirmed the existence of the second bond and Selek indicates with 98.42 percent certainty that the bond is with you. Spock, however, is unaware that he is bonded to you. That part of his mind has been sealed to prevent further damage.”

Jim waved his hands at Sarek, denying what the man was telling him. “Well, maybe it’s better this way. Maybe he is unaware or whatever because he doesn’t want to be. We were friends, sure, but all we did was hang out. We never… I mean, you know. This doesn’t make sense.” Jim pushed his food away from him to the center of the table. He really just wanted to leave and see Bones and Joanna and maybe get sunburned or mosquito-bitten by a lake in Georgia. This was too much.

“The bond is not something one can be unaware of unless something is significantly amiss. Part of Spock’s illness manifest in his technique of dealing with loss. I believe that when you died, Spock blocked the bond so fully that he now feels nothing for you at all. And as a result the bond is weak and will die. The loss of a bond, of course, causes him tremendous pain. The healer’s work prevents the pain…for now. It is however, a temporary solution, and one that must be resolved either way.” Sarek fixed his gaze on Jim and he stared back.

“So, what’s my part in this? I didn’t bond with him, if that’s what you’re implying. I kissed him, but that was it. Isn’t bonding like getting married? I think I’d sure as hell know if I’d gotten married to my First Officer.” 

“There are several types of bonds. During your friendship, did you spend time together? Did Spock touch you?” Sarek asked, face mildly curious.

“Well, sure. I mean sometimes…” Jim thought back to the way Spock sometimes stood so close to Jim that their arms brushed together, or how he felt Spock’s fingers on the small of his back when he didn’t expect them. Those were things that friends did.

“Vulcans are touch telepaths and touch facilitates our bonds with those whom we care about. If Spock cared for you and you cared for him in return, it is logical that a bond would form.”

“Well, I did care about him. I mean, I care about him now, too. I don’t know.” Jim rubbed his face hard, willing his mind to offer up some kind of solution that wouldn’t set himself up for heartbreak again. Nothing came.

With his hands over his face, he let out a frustrated breath and asked what seemed like an inevitable question, “What do I have to do?”

~*~

Jim thought he shouldn’t feel so nervous going to see Spock, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts and heart from racing erratically. He’d resigned himself to leaving, getting on that damn transport and not looking back…

With a shake of his head, he tried to focus. What Sarek had told him stuck in his mind, burning bright with hope that scared him almost as much as moving on without Spock. The disappointment and sadness of the past few days was brushed away, replaced with a need that he didn’t want to see or feel or believe might find fruition. He’d lost too much in his life already.

Thankfully, Sarek had called Jim’s driver back to the airport and Jim rode back alone to the center of the city to Sarek’s apartments. He couldn’t even imagine spending fifteen minutes in a car with Spock’s Vulcan father. Even as a starship captain, that stretched his abilities. Especially now when he felt like he had to get his head together. 

When he thought he’d sat long enough in the car near the entrance of the building, he thanked the driver and exited the car. The mid-morning sun heated his skin instantly and he thought about how he could have been in the climate-controlled cabin of a transport right now instead of going where he might not be wanted. 

With a deep breath, Jim chided himself for being a baby and took the long hallway towards Spock. With each step he willed himself to breathe, remembering that Spock still didn’t know about the bond and he wasn’t supposed to tell him. What the point of it was, he didn’t know, but Sarek’s instructions had been clear, _“Be his friend, Captain. First and foremost and the rest will follow.”_

Jim didn’t really understand the way these Vulcan things worked, but he wasn’t about to go against Sarek’s wishes. He felt like he’d already hurt Spock enough. He’d be careful if it was the last thing he could do.

The plain door stood at the end of the hall and Jim squared his shoulders before knocking, pasting a mild smile on his face.

A moment later, the door opened smoothly revealing Spock in a gray Vulcan robe with black edging. He looked less pale than the last time he’d seen him and just as gorgeous as he remembered.

“Captain,” Spock said, tilting his head. “You have surprised me.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.” Jim glanced around, shuffling on his feet despite his efforts to be calm. “I’m, uh, leaving today and wanted to stop by…you know, to see how you’re doing.” He let his eyes catch Spock’s briefly and smiled.

“I am gratified by your presence, Captain. Please come in.” Spock stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Thanks. How are you?” Jim asked, a little surprised at the invitation. 

“I am adequate. And you?” Spock said, motioning Jim to sit and then taking a seat across from him. “I have heard that your contributions to the defense plans were quite valuable.” Spock neatened his robes as he spoke, his eyes sliding away from Jim’s.

“Yeah. It was a productive couple of days. T’Pouur was really helpful and I think you guys are on the right track. It’s a good plan.” Jim said, meaning his words about T’Pouur but feeling inane.

“That is gratifying, indeed,” Spock answered, staring in Jim’s direction before falling silent.

“Yeah,” Jim said, not quite sure how to talk to Spock after everything.

The silence continued for a long minute or two before Jim thought he might burst. A thousand thoughts and observations pummeled his brain, but none of them seemed right to mention. How do you tell the most important person in your life that you can’t fucking live without him?

Fuck. 

Jim closed his eyes and took a slow breath. That sharp thought was unexpected, and he felt emotion welling up inside him, pushing through so much doubt to crystallize now that he sat in front of Spock.

“Are you well…Jim?” Spock asked and Jim’s eyes snapped to him. 

“I—shit. Spock, this is hard for me. I don’t have any logic or any way to pretend nothing happened between us. It did and…I don’t—I don’t know what to say now that I’m here. I thought it would be okay, but it’s not.” Jim’s words didn’t make sense as he evaded all the things he really wanted to say. Too much, too soon, Jim, he told himself. 

“I do not understand,” Spock said, his eyes curious. 

Right, Jim thought. He doesn’t remember the bond or the kiss or any of it. He took another slower breath and calmed down.

“Do you remember being at Veshek’s?” He asked, trying to find a place to start.

“Yes, of course. It was an unpleasant experience.” 

“Unpleasant?” Jim huffed. “It was fucking terrifying, Spock. You were screaming and moaning in pain. I thought you were going to die.” Jim gripped the arm of the sofa at his mental images of Spock convulsing on the table.

“As you can see, I am well now, Jim. Healer T’Vall has been most instrumental in my recovery. I regret that you were upset.” 

Jim’s eyes widened at Spock’s placid, unconcerned tone. Hot shards of anger fired into his brain but he tamped them down. “I was more than upset, Spock. It was a big deal. Even your dad was upset and he’s a Vulcan!” 

Spock merely nodded, but Jim saw his face pale at his words. 

“Look, Spock, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in and upset you. I just, so much has happened and we haven’t talked about any of it. Remember how we used to talk? About everything — from favorite foods to quantum physics. Our families, even… This thing now, it’s—I don’t understand it, Spock. How is all of that just gone?” Jim gave him an imploring expression, unable to contain his feelings.

“Jim, I do not know. My mind continues to heal, but our…friendship is difficult to remember. I am sorry.” 

“I know. I mean I knew that before I even came to see you. Sarek told me that you couldn’t remember some things — I just. It’s hard because I _do_ remember them.” Jim felt like a selfish child, unable to hold his tongue, but he was adrift and feeling like he should have never agreed to meet with Spock at all. Not when everything they had was absent. 

Jim picked at the seams of his jeans as he tried to pull himself together. He felt Spock’s eyes on him and looked up, certain his face was full of pain.

“I wish to remember, Jim. But I do not know how.”


	13. Awakening

Thirteen minutes after Jim left Sarek’s apartments, Spock initiated a video link with Selek.

“Greetings, Selek,” Spock said, watching the elder Vulcan adjust his robes about him as he settled in the chair.

“I am well, Spock. And you?” the old Vulcan asked.

“When you were in my mind, you showed me a second bond. Please tell me the nature of this bond.” Spock’s tone was matter-of-fact although he felt the pressure in his head returning.

“Ah, yes. I suspect, Spock, that you already know.” Selek’s eyes were warm as he regarded him.

“It is with Jim,” Spock said flatly, knowing it must be true but unable to verify it.

“Yes, Spock. During your time on the Enterprise, you formed a _t’telan_ with Jim, although I believe it unintentional.”

“I cannot recall,” Spock said, the burning in his head beginning again. “Each time I try to access the bond, I am struck with pain and I am unable to clear the way.”

“Your mind has been damaged, Spock. While I might help you to uncover your bond with Jim, it is best if he assists you. Let him, Spock, and do not be afraid.”

“I do not know how to ‘let him’ as you say, Selek. I have never experienced this problem before.” Spock felt a tweak of irritation. It was not a simple problem, despite Selek’s simplistic offering of advice.

“Indeed it is not. I know, however, Jim would never willingly hurt you and you do not need to fear what the two of you can share.” Selek’s voice held a reverent note Spock found grating.

“Are you certain, Selek, or does your own desire for your Jim cloud your judgment?” Spock let his words carry more emotion than he normally would have. This other self made him angry.

Selek simply smiled. “Ah, Spock. My desire for my Jim clouds my judgment each and every moment, but I would not have it any other way.” Selek let his smile fade. 

“Then how can you counsel me? Our paths are different.” Spock’s words sounded like empty protesting, but he spoke them nonetheless as the flare of pain spread through his mind.

“I can speak only of my own truth, Spock. I was _t’hy’la_ with Jim and I can only imagine the same for you…hope the same.” Selek shook his head once, as if to clear it. “But I cannot disagree if you choose to abandon the bond. I once did the same…” The lines around Selek’s mouth deepened with sadness.

“What do you mean?”

Selek shifted in his seat and spoke without looking directly at Spock. “After many long years together, I left Starfleet to seek kolinahr.”

“But you stated that you had bonded with Jim,” Spock protested.

“I had nearly completed my studies when a consciousness reached out for mine — one of pure logic that drew me to it. I sought answers there only to find that logic, pure and cold, could not offer me the answers. Kolinahr, it seems, would have eventually failed and I would have returned to him. To Jim, my friend, my brother…my _t’hy’la_ , Spock. There I found the answers and, I believe, so shall you.”

When Selek’s eyes finally lifted to meet his, Spock saw the undeniable truth, and the pain shielding the bond began to recede.

“I understand,” Spock finally said, his mind feeling clearer and more aware than it had in weeks. He felt his body relax, the coiling doubt beginning to fade.

“I am gratified,” Selek said and raised his hand in the _ta’al_. “I wish you long life.” 

Selek cut the connection and Spock sat for a long time staring at his reflection in the darkened view screen. 

When he was ready, he rose and sought out Jim.

~*~

Approximately sixty-one minutes had passed since Jim left Sarek’s apartment in a state of what appeared to be anxiety and frustration. Spock, for his part in the conversation, had felt much the same until he had spoken to Selek.

His counterpart, whose presence filled him with illogical unease, had convinced him of the logic of attempting the bond, although he is sure that Selek would not attribute his words as facilitating logic. Selek was far more emotional than Spock could ever imagine himself, smiling and radiating warmth in a decidedly non-Vulcan way. Maybe he, too, had been affected by Va’Pak, Spock thought idly. 

Shaking off his thoughts of Selek, Spock instead focused on quieting his mind for his conversation with Jim — if he could find him. His former captain’s actions were unpredictable at best, chaotic at worst and so Spock endeavored to follow the path he believed Jim might take. If he felt a subtle pressure from the weak bond in his mind, he did not acknowledge it. 

As the traffic from the main city thoroughfare sped past, Spock headed towards the array of construction vehicles at the eastern-most point of the growing city limits. The clanging of equipment grew louder as he approached and scanned the area for Jim. 

His bright blond hair was not difficult to find and Spock’s breath caught. His form was immensely pleasing in a way he had not experienced since he left the Enterprise. In his mind, he felt the brightening of the bond and perceived a small wave of anticipation at the prospect of speaking to him.

He paused not far from Jim to gather himself, taking a slow breath and ordering his thoughts. Jim, unsurprisingly, turned, his eyes widening at the sight of him.

“Spock! What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Jim glanced around and waved his arms to show his surprise.

“I surmised that you might like to walk after our discussion as you routinely engage in physical activity to order your thoughts and emotions,” Spock answered.

“But I could have walked anywhere. Wow.” Jim grinned, his face brightening.

“I predicted that the motion of the cranes would attract your attention, as the rest of the city is quite absent of commotion.” 

Jim laughed then, just a chuckle but Spock felt it vibrate through his skin. The sensation was not unpleasant.

Turning back towards the construction, Jim held onto the railing and watched a backhoe transferring dirt into a truck. Spock stepped forward and joined him, keeping his hand tightly grasped behind his back.

“So you followed me…” Jim said, glancing at him.

“I spoke to Selek in the interim. He has advised me.”

“Yeah? What’d he say.” Jim twisted his hands around the railing — a gesture that Spock recognized as anxiety from Jim.

“He informed me of the bond,” Spock spoke quietly, staring down past their hands at a hardened mound of red dirt.

“Yeah. Weird, right?” Jim said, tapping his fingers on the fence.

Spock drew a breath and turned sightly, his eyes grazing Jim’s profile. “I suppose, in human vernacular…yes,” Spock agreed, not sure himself why it sounded like the right descriptor. “But also not unwelcome,” he continued, and looked at Jim for his reaction.

It took a moment, but then Jim turned his head, eyebrows raised high for a long moment before he laughed again. “Man, you’re not kidding.” Jim huffed and kicked the ground. Spock could admit that this was not the reaction he had expected.

“You are displeased,” the Vulcan said, feeling worry edging into his awareness.

Jim pushed back from the rail, moving his body with his typical energy. “No, it’s not that. I just — I don’t know what to think any more. I keep getting all of these different messages. First you hate me, then you almost die because of me and now ‘the bond is not unwelcome.’ Man, I don’t even know what to think.” Jim gripped the railing again, his head hanging heavily between his shoulders.

“It was not my intent to confuse you or cause you pain. I —”

“I know! I know… I just, fuck.” Jim turned toward Spock and raked a hand across his face. “I was ready to leave New Vulcan, go back to Starfleet and get on with my life without you, but your father came to me, told me to find you and when I did…well, there was _nothing_ , Spock. You can’t keep acting like you don’t want me and then come and say you do.” Jim’s tone was imploring, blue eyes bright with pain and fear.

“Jim, I—” Spock began, uncertain how to explain what felt like a rush of chaotic feelings. 

A voice interrupted his efforts. “Spock. I am gratified to find you this morning.” 

Spock turned to see T’Zehn, his father’s betrothed, dressed in a deep purple robe with an ornate silver design at the shoulder. 

“T’Zehn. Greetings.” Spock took a step back and bumped into the fence. 

“Your father tells me that you are recovering from your traumas. It was unwise to avoid the healer for so long.” T’Zehn’s tone was flat and Spock could not detect censure, although he was dismayed that he looked for it.

“Indeed. The trauma itself prevented the logical course of healing.” Spock glanced at Jim, whose face was a mix of curiosity and possibly defensiveness.

“T’Zehn, may I introduce Captain James T. Kirk. He is providing assistance with the Vulcan Defense Project.” Spock nodded toward Jim. “Captain, this is my father’s betrothed, and well-known scholar, T’Zhen.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Jim said, and Spock watched his features and body language transform into the Starfleet Captain he knew so well.

“I trust that you will attend our bonding ceremony this afternoon. As Sarek’s son, your attendance would be logical.” T’Zhen squinted slightly as the sun rose up from behind the tallest mountain peak.

“Of course. I would be honored,” Spock answered, giving a deferential nod. Spock mentally chastised himself for not acknowledging the bonding ceremony with his father the day before.

“Very well. I shall see you at the appointed time,” T’Zehn said. “Captain.” She spun on her heel and continued walking along the sidewalk toward the center of the city.

“Whoa, what the hell was that?” Jim said, letting out a loud whoosh of air.

Spock found himself at a loss and wondered why he had not remembered the timing of the bonding ceremony. “I had forgotten, Jim…” Spock said, glancing at Jim.

“Forgot? How’s that possible? You don’t forget anything.” 

“I am afraid that is no longer the case and it is … disconcerting.” Spock looked more fully at Jim and felt the tug of emotions at his concerned expression.

“Was it the saka…, uh, the procedure that fried your memory?” Jim stumbled over the Vulcan word.

“Possibly,” Spock said, somewhat pre-occupied with the notion that there was possibly much more that he had forgotten as well. 

“I’m sure you’ll get it back,” Jim said and patted Spock’s shoulder.

“Reassurances are not necessary, Jim.” Spock drew a sharp breath. “ _Kaiidth,”_ he said. “What is, is. There is little I can do about it at the moment.” Spock glanced toward the town center and beyond it his personal apartment. 

“So, uh, you need to go?” Jim asked, voice low and quiet.

Spock turned back to him, aware once more of why he had come to find him in the first place.

“It would be wise to prepare for the bonding ceremony. As Sarek’s son, I will be called upon to formally honor the newly bonded couple. I must prepare,” Spock said and watched Jim’s face fall in disappointment and then quickly recover.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’m glad I got to see you before I left.” Jim kicked himself away from the fence, a notably false smile on his lips.

“Jim,” Spock said, “please wait. I do not wish to end our discussion, but it appears our time is now cut short.” A slowly-growing ache began at the base of his skull.

“Um, no, me neither.” Jim shifted around, his body coiled with energy and indecision. “I, uh, I guess I could stay. I mean, I don’t know.” 

Spock thought for a moment, then spoke. “I would be gratified if you would accompany me to the bonding ceremony.” 

“Really? Like your, uh, date?” Jim’s eyes began to crinkle with anticipation and Spock’s heart jumped.

“Yes…I believe ‘date’ would be the proper term,” Spock said, and watched as a wide and genuine smile spread across Jim’s face. It was beautiful, and Spock felt a deep sense of gratification that he had caused it to appear.

“Awesome! I’d love to go!” Jim answered, and lurched forward to hug Spock.

The movement was so sudden that Spock froze and Jim stepped back quickly. 

“Sorry!” Jim said with a laugh. “Got a little overeager there.” His smile faded a bit, but his eyes were tinged with pleasure.

“It was not unpleasant, Jim. Just surprising.” Spock forced softness into his tone, realizing that he was somewhat out of his depth with his unpredictable captain.

“Cool.” Jim shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and gave Spock a lopsided smile. “So, what do I wear?”

~*~

Spock stood stiffly next to his father as they awaited T’Zhen’s arrival. Jim stood behind him and to the right. Spock was certain he could feel his captain’s energy radiating from him as the five witnesses waited silently.

The cavernous space echoed slightly with oncoming footfalls and Spock glanced at the attendants, watching as the male raised the mallet and struck the gong. The deep bass reverberated through the hall as T’Zhen strode forward, her hair piled into tight high ringlets. 

It had been many years since Spock had attended a bonding ceremony and the ritualism of it struck him as illogical. It was, he realized, a call back to the traditions of Vulcan’s pre-reform history, and the logic of preservation made some sense.

T’Zhen was not a beautiful woman by Vulcan standards or by Spock’s own assessment. His father, he supposed, cared not for physical beauty when all else was compatible. Spock himself had thought the same thing until he’d met Jim. His former betrothed, T’Pring, had been quite attractive and their bond perfectly suitable, yet Spock found her to be self-centered and rather unpleasant. He recognized a twinge of guilt as he registered her passing as somewhat of a relief. He had always known that his father would have disallowed the severing of the bond had she not died while Spock was attending Starfleet Academy. He could not envision this ceremony with T’Pring. No. It would have been…incomplete.

Spock cast a glance toward Jim, although he was standing just out of view. Spock realized with a sudden lurch in his stomach that he _could_ imagine a bonding with Jim. For a moment, he indulged in a fantasy of Jim dressed in vivid blue and gold robes adorned with ancient Vulcan script. It was an image that generated a strong spike in his desire and Spock swallowed, allowing only a moment’s more pleasure, before suppressing the feeling. He was getting ahead of himself, as a human would say.

T’Zhen approached and stood facing his father. Minister Kanar stepped forward, his long yellow robe sweeping the ground. Spock moved back out of the way, fitting neatly between Jim and T’Naya, his father’s assistant.

Jim bumped his elbow against Spock’s and then moved slightly. His closeness to Spock re-invigorated his thoughts of bonding and he felt another flare of desire that he pushed aside in favor of listening to the Minister speak the ancient Vulcan bonding script. 

His father was dressed smartly in a high-collared bronze robe with dark gray details woven around the sleeves and along the hem. As his father spoke the required responses to Minister Kanar, Spock thought of his mother and recalled her presence with his father and himself at the wedding of Sarek’s associate when Spock was nine years old. Amanda had spoken to Spock of the traditional American ceremony with the bride and groom, as she had called them, and her amusement at some of the traditions she’d witnessed in her early life on Terra. Spock recalled her face fondly and realized that he felt no anger towards his father or any other kind of emotion except pleasure that his father would not be alone. In the hours since he became aware of his connection to Jim, he realized that he, too, did not wish to be alone.

The gong sounded again to signify the end of the ceremony and Sarek and T’Zhen touched fingertips in a public display of affection. Spock sensed a feeling of pride and stepped towards his father and his new wife.

“I wish you long life and peace, T’Zhen, father. May you bear many children.” 

“You have our gratitude, Spock,” his father said, and glanced at Jim who had stepped forward to stand at Spock’s side. “Captain,” Sarek acknowledged. “We are honored by your presence.”

“Hey, congratulations!” Jim said brightly, his human emotions evident in his face and posture. Spock felt a spark of amusement as T’Zhen’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Thank you, Captain,” his father answered and Spock noted his choice of the human response. While thanks were unnecessary, Sarek’s acknowledgment of Jim’s customs pleased him.

When another well-wisher approached, Sarek and T’Zhen turned away.

Glancing at Jim, Spock said, “The ceremony is concluded. Perhaps a walk in the garden would be a pleasant interlude at this time.” 

“Uh, sure. That’d be good.” Jim nodded and Spock led them out of the hall and into the afternoon sun. 

“So…T’Zhen. She’s like your stepmom now?” Jim asked as they walked.

“In human terms, yes. She is my father’s bondmate and requires no other title in relation to me. She is now _pi-maat_ , which translates into Standard as ‘family’.” 

The pair walked past two narrow buildings and turned down a cooler alleyway to emerge in a shaded garden in the courtyard of several buildings. It was a favorite place for Spock to visit as sometimes musicians would come to perform in the early evenings. 

“Was that weird for you? You know, seeing your dad getting re-married, er, re-bonded?” Jim asked as they sat on a carved stone bench under a wide tree with vibrant yellow leaves.

Spock arranged his black robes and turned slightly toward Jim. “When I first heard of the initial bond between my father and T’Zhen, I was dismayed, but now I find that I wish my father to be happy.” Spock said the emotional words with a flat certainty that reminded him of how far he had come in making peace with his human side.

“Happy?” Jim asked, chuckling. 

“Yes, Jim. I wish for my father to no longer suffer from his broken bond. If he is able to achieve a satisfaction from the bond that approximates human ‘happiness’ then I will be grateful.”

“Huh. Okay.” Jim dropped his head and clasped his fingers between his spread open knees. “And what about you? What would make you happy?” Jim’s voice was low and cautious.

Without thought, Spock touched Jim’s sleeve and squeezed his forearm. “I wish you be with you, Jim.”

Jim looked up at him, mouth dropping open. “You do?” He sounded so surprised that Spock was flooded with guilt. How had he made this beloved man so insecure?

“With all of my cold Vulcan heart,” Spock said, bitterness in his tone at his misguided ways. 

“No, don’t say that. You were sick…messed up because of Vulcan and your mom. I understand. I’ve wanted to be with you, too. But this past week…” Jim looked away again to stare across the courtyard. “It’s been awful.” Jim’s gaze swung back quickly. “I mean, I’m not blaming you or anything. Just circumstances, you know.” Spock could not read the expression on Jim’s face, but he knew it was not good.

“Your statement used the past tense. You ‘wanted’ to be with me…is that no longer the case?” Spock withdrew his hand from Jim’s arm and threaded his fingers together. 

“No, I do. Really, I — so much, Spock. But I guess I wonder if you’re sure. What if something bad happens again? What if there’s another Khan or Nero or one of us gets hurt? Are you going to shut me out again?” Jim rubbed his face. “I can’t do that. I don’t want you to do that either. Go through it again, I mean.”

Spock was silent for a moment, processing what Jim was saying to him, hearing the pain and fear above all else and he know only one way to soothe his fears.

Gently, Spock moved his hand toward Jim’s and grasped tightly. He felt Jim’s worry and fear as intensely as he had felt it himself. Underneath it all, though, he felt love and desire and the smallest portion of hope. The bond, so long protected under a cloud of pain, flared brightly, filling him with warmth and an unexpected certainty he had not felt for many weeks.

He stared at their hands and stroked his thumb along Jim’s wrist. “Through this simple touch, I can feel your emotions, and I share your fear.” Spock raised his eyes, willing his deep well of feelings to be evident to Jim. “For the entirety of my conscious life, I strove to diminish my contact with others, particularly humans, because I could not bear to experience their feelings. All this time, I believed that I was Vulcan and that I had achieved a logic that could save me from the turmoil of others’ emotional lives.” 

Spock’s mouth deepened into a frown as he continued, “Even my mother, Jim. When I turned eight, I forbid her to touch me. I thought it was the Vulcan way, to stay solitary and true to my Surakian values. What I did not realize at the time was that her emotions stirred my emotions and my natural inclination was to respond in kind.” Spock turned Jim’s hand over to reveal his palm. “I lived a falsehood for many years without knowing. I did a disservice to my human half, out of shame and the belief that emotions were illogical and unsuitable for a Vulcan.”

With his thumb, he traced the lines on Jim’s palm, memorizing their curved threads as he had memorized so many other small details about this man. “When I met you, I instantly felt anger and outrage that you had dared to cheat.”

Jim huffed a laugh but did not interrupt. Spock continued, “For a long time, as you know, I tried to deny the emotional responses you stimulated in me.” 

Once again, Spock turned Jim’s hand over, this time threading his fingers through Jim’s and squeezing tightly. “But when our lives were in danger, when the entire ship was about to crash into Earth’s atmosphere, I seized a chance, acting on a wave of emotions that I could no longer suppress. It was from that moment that I knew I loved you.” 

“Spock…” Jim said, voice rough. Spock met his eyes and saw them wet with emotion. Spock shared the same feeling and allowed himself to smile. 

Through their touch, Spock felt Jim’s relief and his own outpouring of love, as intense as Spock had hoped it might be. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” Jim cupped his other hand over their joined ones. “I’ve felt that way for a long time… I just…you know. It’s been hard to know how you feel.”

“Yes, Jim. I understand. I wonder if my mother felt the same way with Sarek. He is far more Vulcan than I will ever be, yet my mother loved him. Of that, I am certain.” 

“He was really worried about you,” Jim offered, switching the hand he was using to hold Spock’s. 

“He and I have achieved a closeness we have not experienced since I was a child. He has helped me to recover.” Spock felt a surge of emotion for the man he had so admired and feared as a boy. He felt a sense of pride that he could say their relationship had been deepened. Spock knew that Sarek loved him, in his way.

“I would very much like to leave this garden and be alone with you,” Spock said. “I trust you will not object.”

Jim laughed. “No way. Let’s get out of here.” Jim stood and squeezed Spock’s hand before letting it drop. Spock felt the loss of their connection as he stood as well. Soon, he hoped that would no longer be the case.


	14. Love Heals

If Jim had thought Spock intended to ravish him in an onslaught of Vulcan strength and virility, he would have been wrong. Instead, the Vulcan, in a not-at-all-Vulcan kind of way, showed Jim, with word and touch, exactly how he felt about him. 

The rush of lips and teeth he expected, were met instead with tenderness and care — sweetness, if Jim was labeling it correctly. In his life, he’d fucked a lot of guys and it had never been like Spock. Getting off, getting laid, bump and grind, all of it had been fun and quick and even the most mindblowing orgasms didn’t hold a candle to what Spock showed him was possible between them.

Their walk to Spock’s quarters took only minutes as they sped down the streets to his small building. Anticipation thrummed in Jim’s veins and Spock’s words turned round and round again in his mind. Never in their developing friendship had Spock spoken about his family or his emotions or his desires. The Vulcan he knew today was not the same one who had fled San Francisco while Jim was unconscious. The doubts that Jim had had, the fears, really, had faded considerably. The rest, he believed would fade over time as they got closer. He relished it.

Spock opened the door and motioned Jim in after him. With gentle hands, Spock reached out to touch Jim’s face, reverently, before leaning forward to kiss him. Their lips touched slowly, almost chastely at first, until Jim opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Spock’s fingers, long and sure, cupped Jim’s face then slid into his hair. 

In return, Jim wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck, pressing himself against the Vulcan’s lithe frame. Spock answered, allowing his hands to drop down slowly, skimming Jim’s shoulders and chest to grasp him around his chest in a full body hug. Though enveloped in the Vulcan’s arms, Jim pushed himself even closer, longing to feel every part of him.

“ _Ashal-veh,_ ” Spock murmured when their lips parted. “I have missed you,” he said and Jim nodded. 

“I’ve missed you, too. I couldn’t imagine leaving without you, Spock. I tried.” Jim’s voice crackled with emotion. “Thank god Sarek found me. I would have been miserable without you.” Jim captured Spock’s mouth again, letting his growing urgency intensify the kiss. 

Without preamble, Spock pulled at Jim’s shirt, sliding it off with Jim’s help and then pressing his hands against Jim’s skin. His touch was electric and Jim leaned into it. Spock’s fingers skittered across his bare skin, followed a moment later by his hot tongue, licking down his neck and collarbone to pull at a nipple. Jim gasped, his dick surging to life as Spock found the other nipple and gave a small tug. 

“Fuck, Spock,” Jim breathed. Most other dudes never even paid attention to his nipples. 

“I am not ‘other dudes’, Jim,” Spock said, voice stern. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Jim chuckled. “It’s going to take a while to get used to this telepathy thing. I had no idea you could actually read my thoughts.” 

Spock looked up at him through his lashes. “You think very loudly, Jim.”

“Huh. Figures. Never was much on staying quiet.” Jim pulled Spock’s head toward his chest again, then lower. “Can you read my thoughts now, Spock?”

“I do not require telepathy to understand your intent in this instance,” Spock drawled, causing Jim to laugh again and yank Spock up for another kiss.

“This is going to be fun, isn’t it,” Jim asked, breathy and amused as he kissed Spock lightly. 

“I expect it will be adventurous. As much of our life together has already been.”

“Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s a little _less_ adventurous, okay?”

“Indeed,” Spock said, then captured Jim’s head between his hands to kiss him thoroughly. 

With talking forgotten, Jim allowed Spock to lead him to the small bed in the corner of his one-room apartment. The mattress was firm as he slid back over the satin coverlet. Spock’s dark eyes traced his movements as he unfastened his black outer robe and let it fall to the floor. Underneath, he wore a soft gray under robe that showed the shape of his body against the backdrop of light from the window.

Jim, in kind, kicked off his boots and unfastened his pants, sliding them off to reveal his dark blue regulation boxer-briefs. Spock stepped forward and knelt on the bed, hovering over Jim for a moment, his eyes skimming Jim’s body. 

“You are beautiful, Jim. I find myself overwhelmed at this moment.” Spock’s expression was adorably confused and Jim reached out a hand to him. 

“C’mere. Just lay beside me. I want to touch you.” Jim grasped Spock’s fingers and pulled. 

Spock climbed next to him and they lay with their heads on the pillow, close and sharing the same breath. Jim’s hands moved slowly, tracing the outline of Spock’s shoulder and down to caress the curve of his ass and thigh. 

“Have you ever been with a man, Spock?” Jim asked, having really no idea at all about Spock’s experiences, save his brief romance with Uhura.

“I have never consummated a relationship, Jim. It was too much to bear emotionally.” Spock grazed Jim’s lips with his thumb as he spoke. “With you, I find that I do not fear the emotions. I desire them as I desire to breathe. You will show me?” 

~*~

Spock swallowed hard, suddenly uncomfortable with his show of vulnerability. He had long heard of the conquests of human men and knew that Jim had had many lovers. 

“Anything you want, baby,” Jim said, kissing him lightly on the lips. The endearment sounded odd, but he accepted it as a show of affection. Still he could not relax. 

“Spock, listen. I don’t expect anything. I mean I want lots of things, but mostly I just want you, okay? Quiet like this or screaming from the fuck of my life. I don’t care. We can take it slow, if you want. Just be…maybe date or try things a little at a time…” Jim kissed him more, nudging closer to swipe his tongue into his mouth. Jim’s hands became stronger in their grip and Spock could feel the desire coming through their touch. It multiplied in Spock and he tugged Jim closer in return.

After a moment, he broke the kiss, and leaned his forehead against Jim’s. “I want more, Jim. I do not want to wait or go slow or any of the options you have outlined. While I am aware of the mechanics of anal penetration, I am not certain how one negotiates the ‘bottoming’ and ‘topping,’ as I believe they are called.

Jim barked a laugh, his warm breath a puff of air against Spock’s skin. “You know, we can just do what feels natural or we can talk about it. I would love to do it either way with you.” 

Spock felt hesitation through their touch.

“But…,” Spock countered.

“But my fantasies are of you penetrating me. That I would bottom.” Jim spoke somewhat hesitantly, as if suddenly shy.

Spock considered his words. “I am amenable to ‘topping’ and believe that while I would like to experiment as a bottom, I would like to do what you wish for our first intimate experience.” 

“We already are, Spock. This is more than I thought could ever be possible. Now, let’s stop tripping over ourselves trying to make each other happy.” Jim grinned and punctuated his excited statement with a sound kiss. 

Spock kissed Jim back and let his worries fall away as much as he could. He experimented with this hands and mouth, biting once again at Jim’s nipples and reveling in the sounds he made. This, he realized, was how he could learn. Jim, talkative at best and exuberantly verbose at worst, would no doubt provide Spock with all of the evidence he needed. 

So, as any good scientist would do, he endeavored to collect data and formulate new and novel ways to encourage Jim’s most fevered vocalizations. 

It was when Spock took Jim’s erection into his mouth that he elicited the most enthusiastic response and he repeated the action, sliding his hand along the shaft and using his saliva as lubricant. He had witnessed this on pornographic holos and found it to be a pleasurable experience. Jim tasted salty and musky, much as Spock expected. What he did not expect was how Jim would writhe and tug sharply at his hair, moaning and causing Spock’s own penis to grow erect. 

Jim’s vocalizations were soon overwhelming and Spock could not discern his own pleasure from Jim’s. As he sucked down Jim’s penis, he felt the overwhelming urge to stop and penetrate him. This image burned in Spock’s brain, and his hips thrust forward, digging into the mattress to relieve the pressure. 

“Oh, god, Spock. Stop. Stop. Fuck.” Jim squirmed out of Spock’s grasp, his face red as he panted. “I’m gonna come too fast. Fuck.” Jim wiped his face and tugged Spock up to lie on top of him. 

“Is orgasm during fellatio undesirable?” Spock asked.

“Oh, fuck no. It’s just…god, so good. I just, I want to look at you. I want us to do this together, you know?”

“I do not know, but I will take your word for it,” Spock said, trusting him.

A moment later, Jim’s hand wrapped around Spock’s penis and he gasped, small and light, but the sensation warranted the outburst. Pleasure coiled inside him as Jim stroked him, slowly at first and then faster. Spock’s heart raced in his side and he crushed Jim against him, kissing him roughly. 

“You like that,” Jim said with a teasing tone. 

Spock did not answer, just kissed and touched Jim as he was being touched. Their penises rubbed together and then Jim let go. 

“You have any lube? Or lotion? Something slick because I really want you inside me,” Jim said.

Spock reached climbed out of bed briefly and returned with a small bottle of oil. “It is a scented ceremonial oil. I believe it will be sufficient.”

“Cool.” Jim took the bottle and tipped it down. “Give me your fingers,” he said, and Spock held out his hand. 

Jim squirted a few drops on to Spock’s fingers and tossed the bottle aside. “I need you to prepare me so it doesn’t hurt. You know about that, right?”

“Of course. It will be pleasurable for you,” Spock said, not sure if it was a question.

Jim grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

Spock lay on his side and hitched Jim’s knee onto his hip. Slowly, he spread the oil around Jim’s puckered hole, his fingers memorizing the sensation against his skin. Softly, Jim sighed, nuzzling his face into Spock’s neck. As Spock sensed Jim’s relaxation, he pushed his finger against the hole, and after a moment, the pressure eased and he slipped inside. Jim inhaled sharply and seemed to squeeze Spock’s finger.

“Perfect,” Jim said, muffled against Spock’s cheek. “Keep going.”

Spock closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to guide him as he pushed his finger deeper and then drew it out again. Jim moaned after a few thrusts, his body tightening and relaxing with each cycle. 

“Feels so good,” Jim said. “Add another…, please.” Jim groaned as Spock immediately obeyed. He worked both fingers inside Jim, widening his hole and penetrating more deeply. At a particularly deep thrust, Jim gasped in Spock’s ear. 

“Fuck, baby. Fuck. One more, baby. Add another finger.” Jim’s fingers ground into Spock’s shoulder and Spock obeyed, his own penis fully filled. He had never been so aroused in his life and once again he envisioned himself penetrating Jim. It was overwhelming.

He worked another finger in and sped up his pace, angling just the right way to make Jim squirm and moan. Spock’s pleasure deepened and he gasped when Jim touched his erection.

“God, now, Spock. I don’t want to wait.” Jim’s voice was deep and throaty, sending a frisson of excitement through Spock’s body.

Jim rolled onto his back and Spock’s fingers slid out. “It’s not the easiest way to start, but I need to see you.” Jim tugged Spock to climb over him and stroked his penis. 

“Just do the same thing now with your dick, baby. Please…” Jim crooned now, pulling his knees up to his chest to reveal his bright red anus. Spock stared, enthralled, and rubbed more oil onto his penis.

Carefully, he pressed himself against Jim’s hole, pushing steadily yet feeling somewhat worried about hurting him. Jim, who appeared uninterested in Spock’s caution, grabbed at Spock’s hips and thrust himself up. “God, fuck me, please. I want you so much.” 

Spock let himself feel Jim’s desire and drew a breath. He pushed in, breaching the hole and kept going, burying himself deeply inside his lover. Jim gasped and moaned, low and erotic, and his eyes, hooded with arousal, fixed on Spock. “Move, baby, move. God, move.”

With a tilt of his hips, Spock withdrew a bit and slid inside again. Jim keened and when Spock did it one more time, he pulled Spock down and wrapped his legs around him. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.” Jim kissed his mouth and his face and neck, murmuring the same words over and over again. 

Each time Spock thrust, his desire spiked, growing hotter and hotter, in an endless feedback loop with Jim’s pleasure as it seeped into his skin. He could not tell where he began and Jim ended. 

As he penetrated him, he felt the bond expand and widen, its bright yellow light growing stronger and stronger until it outshone every other part of his mind. It enveloped him, drawing him into the most profound sense of pleasure and security, the most amazing sensation he had ever felt.

Spock moved inside Jim at a pace he had not anticipated, each thrust pushing him higher and higher, forcing small bursts of noise out of his mouth until he felt one low, baying sound emerge. 

“Jim!” he barked, as orgasm exploded through his body, sending wave after wave of pleasure through his mind and soul. He reached between them to find Jim’s hand already furiously moving, and a moment later, loud cursing and moaning as Jim also achieved orgasm.

With his heart pounding fast, Spock pulled out gently and let himself fall to Jim’s side, breathing hard and succumbing to the dizzying aftereffects of their passion. Jim, panting beside him, found his fingers and squeezed. 

“Jesus Christ, Spock. Holy fuck.” Jim gasped, blue eyes blazing. “That was fucking amazing,” he said and rolled towards Spock. Spock pulled him tightly against his chest, completely sated and emotionally full in a way he could have never imagined. 

_“Taluhk nash-veh, ashau,_ ” Spock said, his words slipping into his native Vulcan.

Jim sighed and threaded his legs through Spock’s, holding him impossibly close. “I love you, too, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Taluhk nash-veh, ashau:_ I cherish thee, darling.
> 
> Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who stuck it through with this fic and the long hiatus while I reconfigured my life. I adore this story and I hope it is one that you enjoy. LLAP. :)
> 
> Special thanks to lanalucy and kdbleu for their wonderful support.


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